Agent Rhode Island: Recollection
by TyForestWrites2
Summary: (Book 3) Although Project Freelancer is down, its post effects are just beginning. After arriving in Valhalla with Caboose, it wasn't long before Rhode's crazy life takes another turn. After Caboose, Sarge, and Grif go and try to find Tucker, Rhode has to deal with the rest of the Reds and an enemy he thought was long gone. (Takes placed during the rest of Recollection)
1. Prologue: Relocated

**This'll be a very long prologue... Hey guys! This is TyForestGames and I'm back to write Red vs Blue! It's been a while, with me writing my Power Rangers fanfic, but this will be my main focus after that's done. I'll just make this prologue and be right back to Orange Ranger. And with that, let's get right to it!**

 **XXX**

 **Prologue: Relocated**

It has been a few weeks since the Reds, Caboose and Rhode relocated to Outpost 17 Valhalla. For whatever reason, Caboose kept the Epsilon unit and started "experimenting" with it. He wouldn't tell Rhode what he was doing either.

And then today, he flat out kicked Rhode out of the base. Not wanting to be a subject to Caboose's anger, Rhode obliged and walked towards the Red Base. Hopefully when Caboose was done, he'd let him back in.

When he got there he heard Sarge yelling and soon saw him and Simmons looking up. When Rhode looked up, he saw Grif at the very top of the Base.

"Whaddaya see?" Sarge yelled.

"What?" Grif yelled back.

"What do you see?"

"What do I see?" Grif cried, "I see everything, because I'm at the top of the freaking world!!"

"Can you see the port where the bolt comes out?"

Grif looked round and spotted a nearby opening cluttered with metallic debris, "Yeah, it's right here, but I think it's blocked!"

"What?"

"It's blocked!"

"What's blocking it?"

Grif carefully stepped closer to have a look, "It looks like a bunch of pieces of a ship."

Sarge grimaced, "That's disgusting. Who would climb all that way up there just to do that?"

"I said shipuh!"

"Oh right."

"What kind of ship is it?" Simmons called.

"How the crap should I know?" Grif replied, "It's in a million pieces. What difference does it make?"

"Sorry! I'm just naturally curious."

Grif made to lift his helmet up, "I'm gonna spit on you, Simmons!"

Sarge turned to his favorite soldier, "What do you think, Simmons?"

"Mm, it's really hard to say without seeing it," Simmons replied, "But I guess he could try to clear the blockage. I'm a little concerned though. If he clears it and that bolt goes off, it could kill him."

"So you're gonna tell him to do it then," Rhode said, walking up.

"Rhode?" Simmons said, jumping a bit, "What're you doing here?"

"Caboose kicked me out," Rhode answered, "And don't try asking me what he's doing, 'cause I don't know."

"You got kicked out by Caboose?" Sarge asked.

"Yeah, I don't want him to get angry. You of all people should know why, Sarge."

"Touché."

"So what're you guys trying to do?"

"Trying to get communications back online," Simmons answered, "Grif is on top of the situation right now."

"Literally," Sarge added.

At that moment, on the spire, Grif heard a loud cawing overhead. "I said shoo, you stupid freaking bird!"

After he'd shot the bird that kept pestering him, Grif went closer to the blocked port and examined the ship pieces.

"Hey, Grif! We're gonna need you to clear that blockage!" Sarge called up from the ground.

"How?" Grif shouted back, "These pieces are huge! How am I supposed to lift them?"

"Well, they say people in emotional situations can sometimes get superhuman strength."

"Yeah?" Grif retorted, "Well, what about people in situations where they really don't give a crap? What kind of powers do they get?"

"Extreme laziness," Rhode yelled back with a smirk.

"Oh, shut up Rhode!"

"If you can't lift it, just try clearing it with a grenade," Simmons suggested.

Grif glanced nervously at the wreckage. "Um, is that safe?"

"None of this is safe," Simmons yelled, "You're gonna start analyzing now?"

"Here, Grif, take one o' mine." Sarge flung a grenade up towards Grif but it came up short and landed next to a crate before exploding and knocking it into the water.

"Sarge, you pulled the pin out!" Simmons yelled.

"Of course I did," Sarge replied, "Who throws a grenade with the pin still in? Hey Grif, catch this one."

He tossed another grenade up. This one came closer, but Grif just backed away, "No! I'm not catching those."

"Dang it," Sarge scowled, "I can't reach."

This time, the grenade bounced off the side of the base and landed next to Simmons.

"Ack!" he yelped, jumping aside moments before it went off, "Cut it out!"

"Yeah," Grif agreed, "Let me get back to work up here."

With that, he edged closer to the blockage, thus avoiding the rocket that Sarge had fired at him, "Did ya catch that one?"

"Okay, here we go..." Grif took a grenade off his belt, pulled out the pin and then dropped it into the debris.

"Oh crap!" he suddenly realized, "Uh, where do I go when the grenade ex-"

KABOOOOOMMMMMM! The explosion blasted the debris into little pieces, but it also sent Grif flying high into the air.

Simmons and Rhode had to duck to avoid the pieces falling down but then Grif's screaming made Simmons look up, "Oh no, he's falling!"

"I see that!" Sarge replied.

"Should we try to catch him?"

"Catch him? Heck no. He'll crush us."

"He is quite big," Rhode agreed.

"What do we do?"

"I got a good idea," Sarge suggested, "Let's act like we're gonna catch him, then we don't. It's a win-win."

Simmons watched Grif plummet towards the ground then turned to them, "You two used to jump out of ships. Give him some advice!"

"You kidding?" Rhode smirked, "I wanna see how durable Sister's brother is."

"Oh right," Sarge then called out, "Grif, you should never join that unit! The pay is terrible and the officer is totally disorganized!"

"Advice on how to land!" Simmons yelled.

"Oh right," Sarge muttered, "Grif, what you wanna do is-"

But as he was talking, Grif hit the ground behind them with a sickening bone-crunching SMACK!!!

"Try to tuck and roll at the last second," Sarge shouted, "That will transfer your momentum to inertia and invert your ker-splat probability."

"Owwww..." Grif then groaned.

Simmons looked round and spotted his teammate, "Hey Sarge, I think he's down already."

"Oh right," Sarge chuckled as he looked too, "Simmons, you are observant!"

"Wow," Rhode said, "He's still alive. He is Sister's brother."

"What does that mean?" Simmons asked.

"I'll tell you later."

Sarge watched the tip of the spire until a blue bolt of energy shot out into the sky.

As it did, he could hear the sound of machines powering up inside, "Hot ham and cheese, the power's back on!"

Simmons meanwhile examined his unconscious teammate, "Um, I think Grif is broken, Sir."

"Sad," Sarge muttered, "I always thought I would be the cause of Grif's death. Ah well, forget it."

"Yeah, forget it," Simmons agreed, getting to his feet.

"Let's call Lopez and tell him we've got power," Sarge said, slipping his helmet on, "Robots love that stuff."

"And oil," Rhode added.

Sarge switched on the long-distance radio and tuned it to the Blood Gulch Red Base frequency, "Come in, Lopez. Señor Lopez, come in. This is Sergeant-"

"Hola," Lopez's voice called out, "Esta es Barranco de la Sangre. Discurso de Lopez." (Hello? This is Blood Gulch Canyon, Lopez speaking.)

"Lopez, it's Sarge. Que paso, what ya doin'?"

No reply came.

"Lopez?"

"Uh, Me disculpo, no puedo utilizar el teléfono," Lopez said shiftily, "Deja por favor un mensaje..." (Uhhh, sorry I couldn't come to the phone. Please leave a message...)

"Lopez, you old kidder," Sarge chuckled, "Cut it out."

"...le llamaré des tras" (...And I will call you back as soon as I am able.)

"Seriously... Program, disable lying mode; voice verification Bravo niner."

"Commando acceptado," Lopez replied then he sighed, "¿Qué usted tiene?" (COMMAND ACCEPTED. OK, what do you want?)

"I need you at the new base on the double," Sarge explained.

"¿Por qué?" (Why?)

"We got power. I need your help building something awesome. Are you busy?"

"No," Lopez admitted, "Acabo de matar a esa muchacha encima a la Base Azul. Ganamos a propósito." (Actually, not really. I just killed that girl over at Blue Base, so I'm all wrapped up here. We won by the way.)

"Great!" Sarge beamed, "Hey Simmons, we won Blood Gulch."

"Oh, cool," Simmons cheered, turning to Rhode, "Suck it Blue."

"Oh, and tell Grif his sister's dead," Sarge added.

"Yes sir!" Simmons replied then his face fell, "Wait, what?"

"OK. Estoy viniendo," Lopez sighed. (OK, I guess I can be right there.)

"Great, we'll see you soon," Sarge replied, "I'll forward you some blueprints of what we've been workin' on."

Just then Grif gave a loud groan and slowly sat up.

"What happened?" he muttered weakly.

"Grif, you're awake, good," Sarge said. "Lopez is coming here; I need you to stay out of the way."

"Uh, can do," Grif moaned, getting slowly to his feet.

"Simmons, you check the base and make sure everything is online," Sarge ordered, "Lopez is going to need all the power he can get."

"On it, Sir," Simmons replied, running inside.

Sarge then turned to the brown-armored soldier who had just arrived, "Lopez, you get in the base and start workin' on the plans I sent you."

"Sí," Lopez replied, grabbing his tools and dashing into the building.

"Wow," Rhode exclaimed, "He got here fast!"

"Oh, and uh, Grif, one more thing," Sarge remembered, "You might wanna sit down."

"I can't sit," Grif winced, staggering over and slumping on Simmons' shoulder, "I think both my kneecaps are shattered."

"Oh, well in that case, Simmons, you'd better be prepared to catch him," Sarge told his pet private, "He'll probably faint when I tell him his sister's dead."

Grif gasped, "My sister is dead?"

"Oh, you already know!" Sarge cried, "Good, I was worried about how to break the news to you. That could've been awkward."

"No way," Grif retorted. "Not true."

"Lopez told us himself."

"Yeah right," Rhode muttered agreeably.

You don't believe it?" Simmons asked baffled that Rhode would agree with Grif.

"I'll tell you what," Grif replied, "You produce a corpse, I'll believe it."

"Same here," Rhode said.

"Huh?"

"Listen," Grif said, "Once when Kaikaina and I were kids, we went ice-skating and she fell through the ice. She was under there for three hours, and when they pulled her out, not only was she still alive, she was pregnant."

"And one time when I was living next door to her," Rhode added, "Her entire shack set on fire and crashed on top of her. Not only did she walk out of the fire completely fine, she also had a cold."

"Exactly. If you can explain that to me, I'll believe you when you tell me she's dead."

Sarge grimaced, "Hmmm, I wouldn't even know how to-"

"Hecho," Lopez called from the base's doorway. (Done.)

"Holy crap, Lopez is done already," Sarge cried, "Did you finish the-"

"Sí." (Yes.)

"Well, what about the-"

"Sí." (Yes.)

"And also the-"

"Me hacen," Lopez cut in, "Esa significa que hice todo." (I am done. That means I did everything.)

"Caliente daminito," Sarge said impressed, "Let's go check it out."

"Está aqui," Lopez replied, reentering the base. (It's over here.)

Simmons placed his arm over Grif's shoulder and half-led, half-carried him behind Sarge into the base.

 **XXX**

Lopez led the way through the passage until he reached a double-door and then stopped by a small panel, "Prensa abajo." (Just hit the down button.)

Sarge did so and then the doors slid open to reveal a small room big enough for six people.

"You installed an elevator?" Rhode asked.

"Por supuesto." Lopez stepped inside, the Reds and Rhode went in after him and the doors slid shut. (Of course.)

Lopez nodded at a large control panel, "Introduzco su código." (Now enter your personalized key code.)

Sarge pressed some buttons on the keypad.

"Ponga su mano allí." (Put your hand on the scanner.)

Sarge did so and the elevator began to descend.

"Dé vuelta a esa rueda." (Now turn that crank.)

"Which one?" Sarge asked, "This one?"

"No. La rueda media." (No, the third one down, fifth one over.)

"Ah, okay." Sarge located the crank and began to turn it.

"How did he build all this?" Grif asked amazed.

"I told ya, he just needed power tools," Sarge replied.

As the elevator stopped, Lopez pointed to a button on the other side of the doors, "Prense su botón cuando empujo los míos." (Now push your button when I push mine.)

"At the same time?"

"Sí." (Yes.)

"You wanna do it like on three, or like three and then go?"

"¡Apenas agarro!" (Just push it!)

"Okay."

Sarge and Lopez pressed the buttons and the elevator descended fifty more feet before stopping with a ping and opening the doors.

"Esto es el," Lopez said, stepping out of the lift. (Here we are.)

The Reds and Rhode followed him onto a walkway and found themselves staring out at a huge empty chamber as big as their old base at Blood Gulch.

"What the crap?" Grif breathed.

"What the heck is all this?" Simmons gasped.

"As you know, I've been working on developing a new version of our Warthog," Sarge explained as he and Lopez stood next to a podium, "So I had Lopez here build an underground holographically powered simulation room. This is going to allow us to test the final concepts of my car design. Now check it."

Lopez pressed some buttons on the panel and a large blue grid appeared on the floor of the chamber. Then a Warthog materialized out of thin air above the grid which then disappeared.

"Okay, now that was pretty cool," Rhode cried.

"Thank you," Sarge replied.

"Hey wait a second," Simmons said slowly, "So you built an entire chamber, capable of running holographic simulations, rather than just build the car itself? That doesn't seem very efficient to me."

"Simmons, sometimes you just gotta go for style points," Sarge chuckled, "Hoo-ah."

"This is now on my list of stuff I want in my house," Rhode said, "If I ever get one."

Sarge took a moment to give the holographic Warthog a drive around the chamber before pulling up next to his privates and Freelancer guest.

"Now this is more like it," he chuckled, climbing out the jeep, "Great job on the simulator, Lopez, and good work on the power, Simmons."

"Thank you, Sir," Simmons replied loyally.

"Simmons?!" Grif spluttered, "I'm the one who was almost killed just so you could get the electricity back on."

"Yep, but it was worth it," Sarge replied with a shrug.

Grif scowled at him. "You say that every time I'm almost killed."

"Only because it's always true," Sarge argued, "There's very few tasks that wouldn't balance out by you making the ultimate sacrifice."

"And at least this time we got something out of it," Simmons agreed, "We got power, and a new weapon!"

"Let's test this bad boy out." Sarge leapt behind the turret and swiveled the gun round so that it was pointing right at Grif.

"Whoa, wait a second," Grif gulped, backing out of the gun's range, "Does this hologram jeep fire hologram slugs, or real slugs?"

"As long as we are in this room, everything will seem real to us," Sarge explained, "It's all simulated, but your mind makes it real."

"Ooh, like the Matrix," Simmons breathed.

"Sí, sin toda la filosifa del este," Lopez agreed. (Right, but without all the Eastern philosophy stuff that no one understands.)

"You said it," Rhode replied.

"Alright, forget this," Grif sighed, turning around, "I'm going to stand over there."

"Guess what, dirtbag?" Sarge called out, "I don't need you for target practice anymore. I've got my own holo-Grif programmed into the system already."

He waved up to Lopez who pressed a button on the panel.

Then a second Grif appeared right in front of the Warthog, "Hello, I am literally the worst program ever made!"

"Sounds like someone hasn't used Google Chrome," Simmons muttered.

"Locked and loaded, ready to fire at the bloated," Sarge announced, cocking the gun, "Grif- I mean fake Grif, go stand over there."

"Cool, whatever," the holo-Grif replied, running over to the center of the room.

"This is a magnetized propulsion system," Sarge told Simmons, taking aim with the gun, "It can fire massive slugs at an outrageous velocity! Check it out."

With that, he hit the trigger and a bolt of blue energy shot out of the gun's tip and blasted the Grif double, sending him flying.

"Blarg, I deserve it," he cried as he died.

At the same time, the Warthog's engine sparked and cut out.

"See?" Sarge chuckled, "How awesome is that?"

"Wow!" Simmons gasped.

"And in 10 short seconds, it will be ready to fire again."

"That's incredible," Simmons breathed then he frowned, "Wait a minute."

"Lopez, spawn me another holo-Grif on the pronto," Sarge called up.

"Si," Lopez replied.

Grif meanwhile was staring at the spot where his holographic double was killed, "Did you guys see that?"

"Shut up, real Grif," Sarge snapped as the jeep's engine restarted, "We're doin' important research over here! Hey Simmons, check this out. I'm gonna shoot the next one in the hoo-hoo."

"And that's my cue to leave," Rhode said, turning around and giving a two-fingered salute, "See ya."

As Rhode walked out, Lopez pressed the button and a second holo-Grif appeared, "Oh hey guys, what's going-"

This one got no further before Sarge blasted him right in the face.

Sarge was having a blast with the hologram chamber as he shot down each holo-Grif as quickly as they were spawned, until the room was almost flooded with them.

"Alright," he cheered, "Lopez, another holo-Grif."

"Esta cosa hace otras blancos," Lopez scowled. (This thing makes other targets, you know.)

"Bah, let's stick with the fundamentals," Sarge dismissed.

As the jeep restarted again, Simmons thought over what his leader had told him, "OK, Sarge, do you mean to tell me this thing fires once every 10 seconds?"

"Yep," Sarge nodded, "It's state of the art."

Once again, a holo-Grif appeared in the room and he immediately ran towards the center, "Let's get this over with."

"But our last weapon fired 10,000 rounds per second," Simmons recalled.

Sarge pondered this over, "If my math is right, and I think it is, that seems like more than this one."

"Yes it is," Simmons confirmed.

"How much more would you say?"

"Well, the chain gun was 10,000 rounds per second, and this would be... 0.1 of a round per second. So yeah it was."

Sarge shot down the next holo-Grif then glanced at the gun as the jeep stalled.

"It does seem to be lacking in the rapid fire department," Sarge admitted.

The real Grif then started as he looked into the room.

"I know I'm not crazy," he muttered, "I just saw something move."

"Oh well," Sarge continued with a shrug, "A good craftsman never blames his tools."

"But we made the tool in this case," Simmons reminded him, "Can we blame the craftsman?"

"No Simmons," Sarge replied, "You and the gun are just gonna have to agree to disagree."

Lopez pressed a button on the console, creating a row of five Grifs by the Warthog.

"Let me take a look," Simmons said, climbing into the driver's seat, "Maybe I can increase the rate of fire."

Sarge nodded as Simmons drove to the other side of the room, "And maybe Lopez can find a way to spawn Grifs faster."

"¡Hace otras blancos!" Lopez yelled. (It makes other things!)

"Guys, seriously," the real Grif called, "I know I saw something."

He approached the line of his doubles and took a closer look, "Aha! See? This one is weird. It's all lightish-red instead of orange."

"No Grif," Sarge called out without looking, "I'm sure it isn't."

"You're probably still hallucinating from the charge you took," Simmons agreed as he checked the power cells.

"Yeah, I don't think so. Look!" Grif pointed at one end of the line.

"Grif, we are busy!" Sarge bellowed, "You and Donut shut up and stop distracting us!"

"But I-" Grif stopped and whirled round to stare at the figure, "Donut?!"

At once, the pink figure stumbled forward. "Water..."

"AH!" Grif yelped, "Donut?!"

"Donut?" Simmons gasped, looking up from his work.

"Water..." Donut panted again.

"Donut, where the heck did you come from?" Grif cried.

"Water..." Donut groaned, falling to his knees.

"You came from the water?" Grif asked puzzled, "I didn't even know you could swim."

"Grif... he needs help," Donut muttered, "It's under... the sand... find him..."

Then he slumped forward onto the ground.

"Oh boy," Grif sighed, "That sounds like something that's gonna keep us busy for a few months."

At that moment, Sarge and Simmons came running up and were amazed at seeing their old teammate.

"Holy mamma mia," Sarge gasped, "Donut! Where's he been?"

"Donut!" Simmons knelt next to the pink private and checked him over, "Grif, what did he say?"

"Who, him?" Grif asked, "Oh, uh, he just said he wanted some water."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, uh just the water thing... Oh, also that he really missed everyone."

Sarge frowned, "Why don't I believe you?"

"Um, he also said that he liked the new jeep," Grif added.

"Well well," Sarge beamed, "I always knew that kid had style."

 **XXX**

 **This is most likely the single longest chapter I have written ever... Of all time. Now that Relocated is out of the way, I'll work on Recreation and Revelation in this one book. Till next time guys!**


	2. Chapter 1: Don't Get Me Started

**Chapter 1: Don't Get Me Started**

In the distant valley known as Valhalla, a battle was about to commence. The members of the Red Team were preparing to attack the Blue Team on the other side. Weapons were armed, the Spartan-II super-soldiers were ready and everything waited on who made the first move...

Finally, the Sergeant of the Red Team climbed up the hill and made his move.

"Attention, Blue Team!" he called out, "This is the Red Team! We are here to destroy you! Your long reign of being the crappiest team around is about to come to a sudden and cataclysmic end! We will give you a few moments to soak in the horrors of this announcement and then return for your reaction! Be right back."

He then stepped down from the hill and chuckled at his gathered men, "Alright, that oughta scare the bejeezus out of them."

"Actually, Sir," Private Simmons put in, "Since it's just two of them over there-"

"And one is an idiot," Private Grif added, "And the other is a Freelancer."

"-I don't really see the point in psychological warfare."

"You're right, Simmons," Sarge replied, "It's not really accurate to refer to two people as a team. What's better? Double Blue? Bluetonians?"

Simmons sighed, "What I meant was-"

"Bluetards," Sarge interrupted.

"What I meant was," Simmons continued, "I don't see the point in announcing to them that we're gonna attack. Why don't we just do it?"

"There's an order to this, Simmons," Sarge explained, "We can't abandon protocol just because we have an advantage! We have to give them a chance to see the errors of their Blue ways, to lay down their arms and meet their fellow men at the table of peace, where we can work together towards a better world; a world that's better because we've poisoned their food at the table and stabbed them in the eyes with a fork... then taken all their stuff."

Simmons was silent for a moment, "Dibs on the computers."

"Noted," Sarge said, "Now watch that base. Tell me if anything changes."

"Yes Sir!" Simmons headed towards the hill then stopped and turned round, "And Sir?"

"Yes, Simmons?"

"I just wanna say..." Simmons sucked in a breath, "I'm glad I was here to see you on your day of victory. It's been a long time coming."

"Yes it has, hasn't it?" Sarge agreed, "My skills as a leader have really taken us far. It must've been quite an honor to serve with me."

He and Simmons stared at each other for a moment, "Uh... okay, glad we had this talk."

"Are you glad I'm here too, Sarge?" Simmons asked hopefully.

"Of course I am," Sarge replied.

"I knew it!" Simmons squeaked, "I just knew-"

"The squad's kill/death ratio is the most important measurement when evaluating sergeants," Sarge cut in, "If you had died, that would've hurt my numbers."

Simmons let out a sniff.

"Glad I could help," he muttered dejectedly, climbing up the hill.

"It's better to keep a little padding in our stats," Sarge continued, "That way, if we're far enough ahead, I can stab Grif in the face and still stay in the lead."

"You know, I'm standing right here," Grif informed him.

"Right where I want you, within face-stabbing range," Sarge said smugly before switching on the radio in his helmet.

At the front of the base, Lopez was checking over the wreck of the Warthog Mk 3 when he heard Sarge's voice in his helmet, "Lopez, how are those vehicle repairs coming?"

"Se destruye el jeep," Lopez replied, "El no ser fijó." (Coming? The jeep is destroyed. It can't be fixed.)

"Got an ETA?"

"Si. Nunca." (Yes. Never.)

"Well, as long as I get it ASAP, 'cause I need it PDQ!"

Lopez rolled his mechanical eyes, "Entonces, nunca menos uno." (In that case, never minus one.)

"Lopez, you're a regular RFR - Really Fast Robot," Sarge chuckled, "Grif, make a note in the acronym journal. Simmons, status report!"

"Still just two Blues, Sir," Simmons replied, coming back down the hill.

"Lopez, status report!"

"¡Déjeme solo!" Lopez yelled. (You already talked to me, moron!)

Sarge ran up the hill again, "Hey, Blues, don't think we've forgotten about ya! We're still gonna kill ya any second. Count on it!"

As he rejoined his team, Grif scratched the top of his helmet in thought, "Sarge, have you thought this invasion all the way through?"

"Of course I have," Sarge replied, "We beat the Blues: we win, you suck. That's all the way through."

"Uh, one is a Freelancer. A guy who is capable of kicking our butts a thousand times over. Even if we miraculously beat him, who do we fight then?"

"We fight... uh, other Blues."

"But what if no more Blues come?" Grif pointed out, "I mean they haven't sent reinforcements yet. What if they never do?"

"Why would you want more Blues?" Simmons asked puzzled.

"Well, we have this new base and all this new equipment. Who else are we gonna test it on?"

"Who cares?! The war would be over!"

"Oh... great," Grif muttered.

"You're suggesting we don't attack them?" Sarge cried, "Grif, that's borderline traitorism!"

"I think the word you're looking for is 'treason', Sir," Simmons corrected helpfully.

Grif then had an idea, "Never mind, Sarge, I was wrong. If the war's over and we win, well that's just great."

"Of course it would be!" Sarge agreed.

"I mean, no more early morning runs, no more training exercises. Why would we need to do any of that stuff, right? We won!"

Sarge frowned, "Right..."

"And all this new equipment - we can just let them fall into disrepair. I mean, we won't need it! We won't even need to test it, because we're winning. We're about to make it all obsolete."

Sarge let out a groan.

"And just think about this, Sarge," Grif added with a smirk, "No more boring staff meetings... ever!"

Sarge groaned louder then he ran up the hill again, "Hey, Blues! There's uh, gonna be a slight delay in your destruction! Hang tight!"

Then he turned back to his privates, "Maybe I should call our new Command. They'll tell us what we should do."

"Yeah," Grif snorted, "The old one was so great, the new one's gotta be even better."

Ignoring Grif's sarcasm, Sarge switched on the long distance radio in his helmet, "Command, come in Command! This is Blood Gulch Outpost- wait, I mean, uh... Simmons, what's the name of this place again?"

"Valhalla," Simmons replied.

"Valhaldagir-jaggle-callit... thingy... Outpost #1," Sarge said, "Do you read? Come in! I need advisement on what to do about Blue Team."

While Sarge was talking on the radio, Simmons rounded on Grif angrily, "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing?" Grif asked. "We have two enemies here and one is unbeatable. We can milk this for years!"

"No, Blue Team!" Sarge yelled, "Blue..."

"If we beat them, Command will just send us to some new base, where we have to fight a real team."

"So?" Simmons asked.

"So, do you want to fight one crappy enemy and one impossible enemy, or five real enemies?"

"B-L-U-E, Blue," Sarge spelled, "Try looking under 'suck it!'"

Grif smiled at Simmons, "You want me to help subtract two from five? I know that's tough for you."

"Shut up!" Simmons snapped.

"Hey guys!" a new voice called out.

Grif and Simmons jumped in surprise and turned round to see a Spartan-II in slightly scorched blue armor standing by the hill, an assortment of machinery in one arm.

"Caboose, what are you doing here?" Simmons yelled.

"Just getting parts from the crashed ship," Caboose replied, indicating the tools and components he was carrying, "What are you guys up to?"

"We're deciding whether or not to kill you and Rhode and wipe out your team forever," Grif said.

"Ah, sounds tough."

"We're kind of splitting the decision right now."

"Do I get a vote?"

"No!" Simmons shouted, "Get back to your base! Stop wandering around during your defeat. It's confusing!"

"Oh, okay, sorry." Caboose turned round and set off back into the valley.

"And what are you working on?" Simmons called.

"I'm still not telling you!" Caboose shouted back.

"Hello? Hello?" Sarge tapped the radio to try to get a signal, "Hello! They hung up on me!"

"Why?" Simmons asked.

"They said they didn't even have record of a Blue Team, nothing on the Blues at all in their computer system."

"Oh." Simmons then gasped, "Ohhhh!"

"What?"

"We deleted them, remember? We wiped them out from Command's computers."

"We did?"

"Yeah, don't you remember?"

Sarge then nodded slowly. "Ohhh, right."

 **XXX**

 _Flashback_

At the control room in Command, Simmons managed to get through the security protocols and located the Blues' files.

"Simmons, execute the hypotenuse initiative and delete the Blues," Sarge ordered.

With a nod, Simmons pressed a button on the keyboard and the files disappeared, "Done! The Blues now never existed. I also upgraded your paycheck while I was at it."

"Well deserved," Sarge nodded.

"Yeah, we win!" Grif cheered then Sarge cocked his shotgun and shot him right through the head.

"Blarg, I am dead," Grif groaned as he fell to the ground, "But that's okay. I don't deserve to enjoy victory. My life has meant nothing."

"What a great day!" Sarge beamed, "Simmons, transform into Motorcycle Mode."

"You got it, Sir," Simmons replied and in a few quick movements too difficult for the author to describe, he had now become a motorcycle, "Beep beep!"

"Let's get outta here." Sarge leapt onboard Simmons and drove out the control room and into the sunset, "Yee-haw!"

 _End rather ludicrous flashback_

 **XXX**

"That's not what happened!" Grif yelled.

"Of course it is," Sarge argued.

"Then how am I still alive?" Grif pointed out.

"I ask myself that question every day," Sarge muttered, "Moto-Simmons, run him over!"

 **XXX**

 **That was the weirdest flashback ever... Of all time. Till next time guys!**


	3. Chapter 2: Free Refills

**Chapter 2: Free Refills**

At the Blue Base, Caboose used the components he'd collected to continue his project, after checking that the fire extinguisher was close at hand. The work was tiring, but he kept himself entertained by telling stories to his new friend, the storage unit that held the last remaining AI in existence, Epsilon.

"Then there was the time we got a tank," he spoke as he worked, "Of course no one knew how to drive it, but then there was a big fight and my team got in trouble. So I talked to the tank. She was really nice, you're really gonna like her. Anyways, the team was in trouble and I had to use the tank to drive out there to help them..."

He frowned, "Well, help most of them..."

Then he shrugged, "Er, some of them..."

He cleared his throat, "Okay, let's just say this: I drove the tank, and some people got helped... and some other people didn't get helped. Details aren't that important."

He resumed his work and as he did, the Epsilon unit glowed a bit and gave a loud hum.

At that moment, Agent Rhode Island, or Rhode, walked in. He had been listening to Sarge's rather amusing threats and was actually hoping they would attack. Without Caboose talking with him, nothing kept Rhode entertained anymore.

"So..." Rhode said to Caboose, "Still not telling me what you're doing?"

"Nope!"

"Figures," Rhode grumbled, walking back to his barracks.

 **XXX**

Meanwhile at the Red Base, Sarge was hunting all round the building, searching for someone.

"Grif, where the heck are ya?" he called as he hunted high and low, "Grif? Grif! Grif, come on!"

"I'm in here!" Grif called from the main doorway.

"Where are you?" Sarge shouted, "Grif, I need you!"

"In here, in the base!"

"I can't hear you!" Sarge cried, "Get out here!"

"Okay, fine," Grif came running outside, "What is it?"

"Where's Simmons?" Sarge asked.

"Simmons?" Grif spluttered, "If you wanted Simmons, then why didn't you yell like a lunatic for Simmons?"

"Darn it, Grif!" Sarge snapped, "I entrusted you with one duty, and that's to know exactly where Simmons is at all times so I can find him. Simmons watches Donut, Donut watches me."

"Yeah, who watches me?"

"Nobody. You move less than Donut does. Now where's Simmons?"

"I don't know," Grif replied with a shrug, "He's downstairs in your hologram simulatron or whatever the heck you call it."

"Excellent work, Private Grif!" Sarge commended.

"Wow!" Grif beamed, "Thank you, Sir."

"I'm gonna recommend you for a big shiny medal!"

Grif's smile faded, "Okay, you're being sarcastic right now, aren't you?"

"Oh, absolutely!" Sarge replied then he frowned, "Wait, was your question sarcastic?"

"Who knows?" Grif replied, "Probably, unless- Wait, are you being sarcastic right now by asking that?"

Sarge and Grif stared at each other in awkward silence for a moment.

"Hmm," Sarge muttered, "Maybe we should drop this conversation."

"Yeeah," Grif agreed.

Sarge then stepped into the base, "What's Simmons doing downstairs?"

"Sorry, not in my job description," Grif shouted.

Sarge let out an angry sigh, "I'll ask him myself..."

 **XXX**

Down in the hologram chamber, Simmons was hard at work, trying to fix up their new jeep, the Warthog Mk 3 v2.

At this moment, he was working on the turret that would house the EMP launcher when he heard a voice calling out to him, "Simmons, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Simmons turned round to see Sarge approaching from the ramp, "Really? Sorry, Sir, I was just down here working on the jeep prototype. I know you really want to see it built, and we need to work on a few bugs in the design."

Sarge frowned, "A few bugs?"

"Yeah, you know, like the fact it stalls every time we fire the magnetic cannon, because you based it on an EMP."

"Oh, right!" Sarge remembered.

"It's kind of a critical flaw, if you don't mind me saying," Simmons said, climbing off the turret.

"Oh, I don't mind you saying!" Sarge replied, "Feedback is important."

"It's just that sometimes I feel bad criticizing your work," Simmons muttered sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, "You know, because you're in charge and all."

"Simmons, there's no reason to feel that way!" Sarge admonished, "You're a valuable member of the team! I always find your feedback to be both insightful and appropriate."

Simmons looked up at this, "Really?"

"I know I can be rough sometimes. But that's only because it's hard being the leader! You know, dealing with those dirty Blues and that lousy Grif character all the time!"

"He is lazy, Sir."

"I don't mean to complain, but sometimes... I just... need a friend..." Sarge let out a sniff, "Simmons, we've been working together a long time. I hope I can call you a friend, and that you can call me... the same."

"Gosh, Sir, I don't know what to say," Simmons breathed, "If it's okay with you, I would really like it if I could just call you 'da-"

"Simmons, are you down here?"

"What?" Simmons looked up in alarm, "Yes!"

He squeaked then he coughed, "I mean... yes! Give me a second, don't come in!"

He jumped in front of Sarge just as a second Sarge stepped onto the platform, "What the heck are you doing?"

"Nothing!" Simmons stammered, "I was just working on your jeep design and-"

"What? Stay away from my jeep!" Sarge bellowed, "It's perfect! You'll just mess it up!"

"Yes, Sir," Simmons sighed.

"And who are you talking to?"

Simmons quickly pressed a button on a hidden remote on his belt and the Sarge behind him flashed blue and disappeared.

"Nobody," he muttered dejectedly.

"Well, get upstairs on the pronto," the real Sarge called, "We need to have a meeting, and I need someone to agree with me!"

"Do you want to brief me on the details first, so I know what I'll be agreeing to?" Simmons asked hopefully.

"Oh yeah," Sarge drawled, "I'll get riiight on that, send you a memo."

Simmons perked up, "Really? Because I've been working on the template and I think it's ready to-"

"No, of course not!" Sarge cut in, "Why the heck would I do that? What, did you get exposed to radiation or something down here?"

With a shake of his head, he left the room, "That boy's gone crazy..."

With a growl, Simmons pulled the remote off his belt and flung it to the floor, "I like my digital life so much more than my stupid real life."

He arrived at the meeting room where Grif and Sarge were waiting, their helmets removed and placed on a table behind them.

"Finally!" Sarge cried. "Maybe now we can get started."

As Simmons removed his helmet and placed on the table, Grif noticed the despondent look on his teammate's face, "What's your problem?"

"Nothing, leave me alone," Simmons muttered.

Sarge paced in front of his privates, "Men, as you know, the Blues have been erased from Command records, for some unknown reason."

"Unknown, Sir?" Simmons cut in, "We're the ones that did it!"

"You can't prove that," Sarge argued.

"Prove it to who?" Grif asked.

"I think we can, because we're the ones that did it," Simmons replied.

"Allegedly," Sarge put in.

"Not allegedly. You told me to do it, and I did it."

"Reportedly. Let's not go accusing people and inviting a lawsuit until we know the facts."

"Who's gonna sue us, us?" Grif scoffed then he frowned, "Wait, we're gonna sue ourselves?"

"I'm going to defer this conversation to my legal team," Sarge replied.

"So that means the staff meeting is over?"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"We have too much to discuss," Sarge answered, "Isn't that right, Simmons?"

"Absolutely, Sir," Simmons sighed, "No one has ever been more right than you."

"Wow, someone's phoning it in," Grif murmured.

Sarge looked between the two privates with a grim face, "If the Blues aren't in Command's database, that means even if we destroy them in a resounding victory, it still won't count as a win! It's like we didn't even beat anybody!"

"Hey, that's right!" Grif gasped, "I never thought about that, Sir!"

"Meh, whatever," Simmons muttered.

"So that means we can't kill the Blues," Sarge said.

"Exactly," Grif agreed, "Because if we defeated them, it won't even count and that's the best part about winning a war: getting the points."

"Bingo!" Sarge cried.

"No, why would we try to win?" Simmons moaned, "It's only what we're supposed to do."

"We need to find a way to get them back into the database first," Sarge declared.

Grif thought it over, "So, the plan is to hold off our attack until our superior officers take notice of one of the teams in this canyon, and notice them well enough to actually go out of their way and add them back into the database, or do anything at all in any way to formally recognize us in an official capacity?"

"You got it," Sarge replied.

"This is probably the single greatest plan I've ever heard in my entire life!" Grif beamed.

"You would think that, suck up," Simmons scowled.

"Simmons, can it!" Sarge snapped, "And thank you, Private... uh... Grif? Ugh!"

He grimaced slightly.

"You're... welcome?" Grif replied unsurely, "Am I saying that right?"

"So, our first order of business should be to fortify our own team!" Sarge commanded, snatching up his helmet, "Get ready for the big battle! Let's get Donut back on his feet."

With that, they put their helmets back on, left the meeting room and made their way down to the sleeping quarters. Before Donut had arrived, the sleeping arrangements had been well thought-out: Lopez always slept standing up, Sarge took the big bed and Simmons and Grif took the bunk bed; Simmons on top, Grif underneath. But when Donut had come, things got a bit complicated but eventually Sarge worked out the best compromise: Donut took the bottom bunk and Grif had to sleep on the floor. And since Donut had been comatose for the past few days, Grif never had a good night's sleep at all.

Now Sarge, Grif and Simmons entered the bedroom to check on their pink teammate... only to find the bed completely empty and his helmet still on the floor next to it.

"Hey, where's Donut?" Grif asked.

"Simmons, where'd he go?" Sarge demanded.

"How would I know?" Simmons asked.

"Keeping track of Donut is one of your duties!" Sarge snapped.

"Ooh-hoo-hoo, busted!" Grif gloated.

"Ah, who cares?" Simmons muttered.

 **XXX**

Meanwhile at the Blue Base, Caboose had taken a break from his work and was now sitting by the Epsilon unit with his helmet on his lap, still chatting merrily away, "And then there was the time we turned all of our armor black, because Tex was captured. You remember her, I told you all about her. It was a crazy adventure. Then there was another time when she helped us break into O'Malley's fortress, didn't I tell you that one already?"

Suddenly he sat up and looked around.

"Hey!" he muttered, "Do you ever get the feeling that you're being watched by someone?"

He turned to see a wobbly, blonde-haired figure in bright pink armor standing in the passage, "Donut, I'm asking you a question!"

"Hey Caboose," Rhode said, walking in, "Who're you talking t- Donut?!"

 **XXX**

 **And now Donut's got something to say! Till next time guys!**


	4. Chapter 3: Visiting Hours

**Chapter 3: Visiting Hours**

In the valley, the Reds were on the move. Moments after they'd discovered Donut missing, they searched around their base and now they were heading for the other side of Valhalla, towards the Blue Base.

"Come on, men!" Sarge called as they ran, "Lopez said Donut went this way!"

"Are you sure... that's what he said?" Grif panted, lagging behind as usual, "I don't think 'pendejo'... was Spanish... for 'that way'."

 **XXX**

Meanwhile at the Blue Base, Caboose had suddenly realized he had a visitor and got to his feet to look at the peaky pink private, "Muffin Man!"

"Caboose... Rhode..." Donut panted, "I have a message for Church. Wh... where is he?"

Rhode then noticed that Donut's face was very pale, his light-green eyes had lost its usual sparkle and his lips were cracked and bleeding, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Just a little weak," Donut muttered, "Where's Church?"

"Church?" Caboose glanced at the Epsilon unit briefly. "Oh um, he's not here right now."

"Where is he?"

"Um, he's um, he..." Caboose stammered, "That's kind of, uh, um... It turns out he's really a computer program based on some guy who ran the Freelancer project and he went with Agent Washington, he's a Freelancer who destroyed all the AIs that were left."

He glanced at Epsilon again, "Well, almost all."

Donut listened in silence then he frowned, "How long was I asleep?"

"Not that long," Rhode replied, actually a little impressed that Caboose said all that pretty much correctly.

With a loud gasp, Donut fell to his knees, "Listen... I don't know how long... I can stay awake. I need to give someone... on Blue Team... a message. I promised..."

"We know some people on the Blue Team, people on the inside," Caboose volunteered, "You can give it to us."

Donut struggled to get the words out, "Tuck-"

"Tuck! You want me to tuck?" Caboose asked, "What do you want me to tuck? Wait, my mother told me never to tuck anything of anyone else's."

Rhode smacked him on the back at the head and said, "Please continue Donut."

"Tucker..." Donut gasped.

"Tucker?" Caboose repeated puzzled.

"He needs help," Donut moaned as he fell on all fours, "Find him... It's in... the sand..."

And he slumped down onto the floor.

"It's in this and..." Caboose muttered, "This and what?"

"Oh my gosh," Rhode visor-palmed.

He knelt down next to the unconscious Red, "Donut, this and what? What is 'this'? Wait, uh, your pocket? Is Tucker in your pocket?"

He lifted open one of the pockets in Donut's belt, "I remember him being a lot bigger. Tucker, are you in there?"

"Hey, anybody here?" a voice called out. "Blue, where are you?"

"Tucker, is that you?" Caboose shouted, "Why did you shrink? And why are you talking like a pirate?"

"Hello?"

"Hello! Yes, I hear you!"

"Then get outside! I need to talk to you!"

"Outside?" Caboose looked round and spotted the Reds standing outside the main door, "Ohhh, oh I see, I thought-"

He laughed and slapped his forehead. "Man, sometimes I am so dumb."

He looked back in Donut's pocket again, "Hold on, Pocket Tucker, someone outside wants to talk to me!"

He got to his feet and patted the pink private's head, "Donut, you can rest here as long as you want. You must be tired from all of 'this and', and other stuff."

As he went outside, Donut rolled on to his back.

"No... it's not pink... it's lightish red," he muttered deliriously, "Hey Sarge... I should totally get a jetpack... or a motorcycle..."

"Donut," Rhode said, "Just get some rest."

 **XXX**

Outside, Caboose left the Base and met up with the other Reds.

"Hi guys," he called out, "Great to see you... Wait, unless you're here to blow me up then... not so great."

"We're looking for somethin' we've, er... um, lost," Sarge replied.

"Is it the keys to your base?" Caboose asked, "I do that a lot, but it's really easy to break in because there are no doors."

"No, we're looking for somethin' else," Sarge said, "I'm not gonna tell you what it is and give some kind of advantage."

Caboose rubbed his chin in thought, "Can you describe it?"

"Yeah," Grif replied, "It's pink..."

"It's annoying," Simmons added.

"It has a kind of spring in its step," Sarge included.

"Ohh, you mean Donut," Caboose realized.

"Ah yes!" Sarge yelled, "Where is he?"

"He's in my base," Caboose replied, nodding towards the main doorway, "He'll be staying with me and Rhode for a little while."

"You've captured him!" Sarge cried, "Diabolical... What are doing with him?"

"Don't worry," Caboose reassured, "He's resting, comfortably."

"Ooh, that sounds ominous," Grif muttered, "Don't back down now, Sir."

"Give him back!" Sarge demanded.

Caboose shook his head, "See, there's something he needs to tell us. I'll send him home after that."

Sarge's eyes narrowed, "Squeezin' him for information, eh?"

Simmons stepped forward, "Sarge, I don't think that he's-"

"Hey!" Caboose cut in, "No one is squeezing anybody. I was just working with my tools and he-"

"Torture?!" Sarge yelped, "You ungodly fiend, he won't give you any info! He'll die before he reveals anything. Hear that, Donut? You'll die before you talk, we all know that! Keep up the good work!"

"Actually, he already told me the beginning part," Caboose said.

Sarge gasped, "He told you about our secret new vehicle!? Darn it, Donut, you idiot!"

"Sarge!" Simmons yelled.

Caboose looked puzzled, "He told me about 'this and'."

"He told you about that and our new hologram chamber?!" Sarge cried out, "Donut, put a lid on it!"

"Sarge!" Simmons let out a sigh, "I'm gonna go sleep under a tree. Come wake me up when the brain summit is over."

"Are you kidding?" Grif asked, watching his teammate depart, "I hope this lasts forever."

He then turned to his leader, "Psst, hey Sarge, maybe there's a ransom."

"Good thinking," Sarge hissed back then aloud, "What is it you want, Blue?"

"What do I want?" Caboose muttered, "Um... do you have any cookies?"

"What are your demands?" Sarge insisted, "You have to give us your demands."

"I demand cookies!" Caboose shouted.

Sarge glared at him, "You're just toying with us! Yer depravity knows no bounds!"

"Yeah!" Grif agreed.

"Well," Caboose grunted, turning away in a huff, "At least I don't go around knocking on people's non-doors, and promising them cookies and then NOT GIVING THEM COOKIES!"

With that, he stormed off into the base, before poking his head out and yelling, "I'M LEAVING!"

"Wait!" Sarge called as Caboose ducked inside again.

"Hmm, looks like negotiations have broken down," Grif murmured, "Should we call in a nuke strike?"

"Negative," Sarge retorted, "We've got a man in there! Well, you know, Donut."

Just then, Donut's voice rang out from inside the Base, "OW! That hurt!"

"Oh, listen to that!" Sarge moaned, "He's killin' him in there!"

 **XXX**

Inside the base, Caboose stepped back in embarrassment, "Oops, sorry Donut. I didn't mean to step on your hand like that. Are you okay?"

Donut sat up and rubbed his head for a moment before massaging his hand, "W-what happened? Who was that?"

"Oh that was your team," Caboose replied with a scowl, "They're playing some kind of prank... offering snacks and then not giving snacks."

"I hate it when they do that," Donut muttered, "Who was it?"

"Uh, it was Red Sergeant and Grif," Caboose answered, "They were working together while Simmons was lying under a tree, being lazy."

"What the...?" Donut cried out. "How long was I asleep this time?"

"About a minute," Rhode replied, "It's a long story."

"Donut, just don't tell him we have Lopez back!" Sarge called from outside.

 **XXX**

 **Geez, sometimes I forget how stupid Sarge can be at times... Till next time guys!**


	5. Chapter 4: Catching Up

**Chapter 4: Catching Up**

After getting a few drinks of water, Donut listened as Caboose and Rhode told him all about the adventures they and the Reds had had. Then Donut recalled what had happened when he'd been called back to Command.

 _Flashback_

At the UNSC HQ, Donut was escorted to the main briefing room. As he entered, he saw several television screens lining the main wall. On one screen, the mysterious shadowed face of the man known only as the Counselor examined the young Red as he removed his helmet. "Private Donut, we want to debrief you now that your tour at Blood Gulch is over."

"Great!" Donut replied eagerly then his face fell. "Wait, over?"

The Counselor ignored him. "I'm just going to ask you some standard questions to rate your experience, and I will be filling out a form based on your responses. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," Donut nodded with an eager salute.

"All right; then let's begin." As the Counselor spoke, a list of questions appeared on the screen next to him. "During your employment, you were assigned to the Red Team. Is that correct?"

"That's right!" Donut replied. "You can tell by my lightish-red armor."

The Counselor frowned. "I'm a bit confused. By 'lightish-red', do you mean pink?"

"No, I mean lightish-red," Donut retorted.

The Counselor was silent for a moment. "Let's come back to this during the free-form period."

"Okey-doke," Donut agreed.

"Now as to your experience in Blood Gulch, would you say it was-" As he gave the question, the responses appeared on the next screen. "...Satisfactory, somewhat satisfactory, or unsatisfactory?"

"I would say... satisfactory."

"All right, now I want you to look at this picture."

An image appeared on the screen and Donut looked at it for a moment. It showed a large rocky desert with areas that looked scorched. "Oh hey, I know where that is!"

"Which of the following best describes this picture?" the Counselor asked. "Would you say it is: A) the new location where your team was assigned, B) the source of a mysterious energy reading, or C)-"

"That's just where we landed," Donut interrupted.

"Where you landed?" the Counselor asked puzzled. "Can you elaborate?"

"Yeah," Donut nodded. "We were defusing a bomb by this guy Omega, but then the bomb went off and it was such a huge explosion that it totally threw us into the future, and we landed there in that place."

The Counselor looked somewhat baffled. "I'm not sure I understand... the future?"

"Right," Donut replied. "Sarge said that since we were surrounded by ice when the bomb went off and then it was all sand, the Ice Age must have ended, and that would have taken a really long time. So it must've pushed us into the future."

Again, the Counselor was silent. "I... don't have a check box for that. So I'm just going to write down 'other.'"

"Yeah, 'other' works," Donut agreed. "I like other."

"Well, I suppose there's no other reason to ask the rest of our questions," the Counselor decided. "Thank you for a very... enlightening interview."

 _End flashback_

"...So, then after that, they transferred me to that new base," Donut concluded, "I guess we left before we were supposed to do what they wanted us to."

"That's a pretty crazy story, Donut," Rhode chuckled.

"But when I got there, all I found was the distress signal from Tucker, "Donut closed his eyes as he recalled the moment that he'd found the beacon and the strange feeling of someone watching him, "It said to get Church. I think Tucker was captured."

He opened his eyes and turned to Caboose, "There was something there... something scary."

"That sounds scary," Caboose muttered.

"Yeah..." Donut then became aware of something humming nearby and he turned to look at the source, a strange purple capsule marked with a sapphire-blue symbol that looked like a wide 'E', "Hey, that thing sure makes a racket."

"Who, Epsilon?" Caboose asked, "Yeah, it does that when you talk to it. It loves when people tell it stories, especially about things, and of happiness and people we met..."

"You've been telling it stories?" Rhode asked.

"Yeah you know, to the best of my memory."

Donut raised an eyebrow, "The best of your memory?"

"Yeah."

"I bet those were some pretty weird stories." Donut stared over the Epsilon unit for a moment, "So, what is it?"

"Oh, it's a memory component from a bigger AI that a bunch scientists wanted to copy to make more," Caboose explained, "But they couldn't. So they drove it crazy until it developed a split personality and then they harvested all the different personalities for their experiments, yeah."

"Pretty weird," Donut muttered.

"But surprisingly true," Rhode agreed.

Caboose indicated all the mechanical bits and bobs scattered around the passage, "I'm using it and part of Tex's body and parts of Sheila to make a new super best friend... but it's not going so well. I lit myself on fire."

He turned round to show the scorch marks on his back armor.

"You kicked me out because of that?!" Rhode exclaimed before sighing, "You know what, forget it."

Donut thought for a moment, "Where did you get it?"

Caboose tried to remember, "We were on a big adventure, kind of like your adventure, and then we needed help kind of like you need help, and then we needed help and we got help from somebody... It was very helpful."

"Well..." Donut rubbed his chin as he pondered, "Could the person who helped you help us now?"

"Ohhhhhh," Caboose realized. "Oh?"

 **XXX**

Sometime later, in a small compound at a distant planet, a lone disgraced soldier lay silently on his bed, feeling very low in spirit. He ran a hand through his brown spiky hair, rubbed his black-shadowed eyes and glanced down at the grey overalls that he wore then he glanced up at the ceiling with a sigh. How had everything gone so wrong in such a short space of time?

Just then, a guard in white armor came up and opened the door to his cell, "Washington, we got a call for you."

"A call for me?" Washington asked, getting up from his bed, "Who even knows I'm here?"

"It came in on your personal secure channel and they routed it to us," The guard pointed to a small computer console down the hall, "You can take it here if you want."

"Thanks," Wash replied, stepping out of his cell.

"Three minutes," the guard warned.

"What? Oh, yeah, okay," Wash muttered.

As he approached the console, he could hear it ringing and he pressed a button to answer the call.

"This is Agent-" he stopped as he suddenly remembered then he sighed, "This is Washington. Who's there?"

On the screen, the image of a young man with close-cropped blonde hair, and dressed in blue armor appeared, "Agent Washington!"

"Oh, dear Lord," Wash groaned, "Caboose? How did you even find me?"

"You are on my computer screen!" Caboose replied, "I just looked at it!"

"No I mean- oh, never mind," Wash muttered, "What's going on, are you okay? I haven't heard anything about you."

"Oh yeah, I'm good. How 'bout you?"

Wash just shrugged, "All things considered, I guess I should be glad to be alive."

"Yeah," Caboose said, "Did you get a big medal for beating Project Freelancer?"

"Yeah, sure," Wash sighed, "I got a bunch more metal in my life now. How 'bout you?"

"They gave us shiny new bases!" Caboose exclaimed, "The Reds have their place and me and Rhode have our own place! It's kind of cool! I think I'm gonna get a drum set."

"Yeah..." Wash muttered then he did a double-take, "Wait, seriously? You have a new base?"

"Well, it's not new new," Caboose admitted, "They gave us the ones that were abandoned from Project Freelancer."

"They gave you a base?"

"What, you didn't get a new base too?"

Wash sighed as he glanced up at a nearby wall that had the words UNSC MAXIMUM SECURITY DETENTION FACILITY marked on it in bright red letters, "No. No I didn't."

"Well, you can come here and share my base with me and Rhode!" Caboose offered then he suddenly remembered, "Oh, we need your help! Can you come right away? Can you come help us?"

Wash just turned away, "I don't think that's going to happen."

Before Caboose could say anything more, the guard came up from behind and cut off the line, "All right, Washington, back in your cell."

Wash turned round, "Guard, I need to see the Commander, now."

"Yeah, right," the guard scoffed, "Why would I let you do that?"

With a quick glance at the screen, Wash gave a wry smile, "Because I think I just found the missing piece to his puzzle..."

 **XXX**

 **Ominous... Till next time guys!**


	6. Chapter 5: Local Host

**Chapter 5: Local Host**

At the Blue Base in Valhalla, Caboose started working the long distance radio to try and get the signal back.

"Hello? Hello?" he called as he worked, "Agent Washington, are you there? Hello? Hello... Hello... Hello... Hello..."

"Umm, I think he hung up," Rhode reasoned.

"No, I don't think so," Caboose said slowly, "I don't think he'd do anything like that. Hello! Hello."

"Okay," Donut muttered, "Well, I think I'll just head back to my base. If you can think of anything to help me with that desert situation, just give me a ring."

"Okay," Rhode replied.

As they made their way down the corridor out onto the outer wall, Donut turned to Caboose, "Do you need any help with your Frankenstein-friend project?"

"Oh no. But uh, if you see any mechanical parts lying around that... look friendly, would you save them for us?"

"Well, sure. I can ask Sarge if you can use his underground secret workshop. I heard the guys talking about it, it sounded cool."

"Oh right, they mentioned that earlier when they came by to pick you up."

"He doesn't usually like letting the enemy use our equipment, but maybe I'll catch him in a good mood."

"Oh, you could try killing the orange one first. That would probably put him in a great mood!"

"Yeah, that's a good idea and all. But we have all these rules against killing people from our own team."

"Lame," Caboose groaned.

"Tell me about it," Donut agreed.

"No, I don't think we have rules like that on Blue Team."

Rhode stared at him and said, "Don't even think about trying to kill me."

"Man, our team sucks," And with that, Donut stepped into the grav-lift and was launched out into the valley.

"Ohhh, so that's how it works," Caboose said.

He made his way back to the passage and sat down to think.

"Secret underground workshop, huh?" he pondered, rapping his fingers on his helmet, "Well, I have to try something. I don't seem to be very good about doing this on my own."

"Count me out," Rhode said, "I've had enough of your ideas."

Just then, a piece of equipment spontaneously exploded, setting the passage on fire.

"All right," Caboose cried, grabbing the extinguisher, "Now how did that even start?!"

 **XXX**

Meanwhile at the Red Base, Sarge was discussing his next plans to Grif and Simmons, "Men, with Donut captured, I think we should abandon our previous plans of not attacking the Blues and institute a new plan, of attacking the Blues."

"Good," Simmons said.

"Winning the war is one thing, but having a man captured is quite another," Sarge continued, "I can't stand by knowing we've left a man behind! So I need a volunteer to run a suicide mission. This won't be easy and you're almost certain to die!"

Grif looked nervous, "Why are you looking at me when you say that?"

"Thanks for volunteering, Grif," Sarge cried, "Now the plan is to run straight at Blue Base, grab Donut and carry him home over your shoulder, even if he's not hurt. That way, when the Blues track you down and kill ya, Donut will still have fresh legs to run home and avoid recapture."

Just then Simmons spotted a figure running over the hill towards them, "Um, Sir?"

"Quiet, Simmons!" Sarge snapped, "You've been too unreliable lately for a suicide mission. I think I need to go with a pro."

"Gee, thanks Sir," Grif muttered annoyed.

"Just get him back here!" Sarge sobbed, "I can't stand Donut being captured another minute!"

"Aw, that's sweet, Sarge!" a voice called out behind him, "Thank you!"

"What the...?" Sarge whirled round to see Donut standing at the bottom of the hill with a big smile on his face.

"Mission accomplished, Sir," Grif announced.

"Excellent work, Private Grif!"

"Thanks, Sir. Request permission to go AWOL for a few months?"

"Permission denied."

Grif shrugged, "Meh, I had to try."

Sarge then turned back to the pink private, "Donut, you're back! Are you okay? You look fine to me."

"I do?" Donut cried, "Well, I did switch to a new armor polish recently. Thanks for noticing, Sarge."

"No, I mean they didn't hurt ya!"

"Hurt me?" Donut looked puzzled, "Oh no, not at all... And there are only two of them."

"Just two soldiers, eh?" Sarge pondered aloud, "That seems like it could be a tactical advantage."

"We already knew that!" Simmons yelled.

"And now it's confirmed," Sarge replied.

"Permission to switch Simmons to the Blue Team, Sir?" Grif asked.

"Permission denied."

"Meh, I had to try."

"Oh, forget it," Simmons sighed, turning to go around the base, "I'm gonna go help Lopez with the jeep."

"Okay, Donut," Sarge said, "I want as much information as possible. Let's get you debriefed."

"That sounds like fun," Donut giggled, "Boy, things have really changed around here."

"That's not what I meant!" Sarge snapped.

 **XXX**

Some distance away, Caboose watched the activity through the scope of the sniper rifle. Satisfied that the Reds were distracted on other matters, he turned, hoisted the harness that held the storage unit onto his back and put his helmet over his head.

"Okay, Epsilon, let's get in there," he hissed, "And try to stay quiet, it's sneaking time."

As quietly as he could, he slipped around the other side of the Base and ducked behind some crates. He looked round to see Simmons and Lopez working on the Warthog Mk 3 v2 and rolled over to the crates on the other side.

"No, no," Simmons yelled at Lopez, "That one goes there, this one goes here."

"Ese agujero es el rededor como su boca gorda grande," Lopez grumbled to himself.

"Here, just let me do it," Simmons sighed, "Give me your wrench."

"Esta es un martillo idiota," Lopez snapped. (This is a hammer, you freaking idiot.)

Carefully, Caboose slinked along behind the crates until he could see the base's entrance.

He then grabbed the crate next him and pulled it along with him, all the while whispering, "I am sneaking, I am sneaking."

On the other side of the crate, Sarge was trying to fish out information from Donut, "Did you tell them anything?"

"Not really," Donut admitted, "It seems like they had most of the information anyway."

"What?"

"Yeah," Donut replied, "I was actually surprised by how much information they had gathered about our weapons and facilities."

"We've got a leak!" Sarge cried, "Grif, find out who's been gabbin'!"

But Grif's attention was hooked on the crate sliding towards the Base's entrance, muttering, "Sneaking, sneaking, sneaking..."

"Grif, can you find the leak or not?" Sarge yelled.

Just then, the crate bumped into the ramp by the entrance and stopped moving, "Oh, what was that?"

"Uh, I'll get right on that, Sir," Grif muttered, "I'm sure the leak is someone very close to us, specifically someone very nearby me."

 **XXX**

Despite that failed attempt at undercover stealth, Caboose managed to slip into the base and he made his way down to the hologram chamber, hoping to find some equipment that would help him with his project. But he was disappointed at what he found.

"There's nothing here?" he cried, removing Epsilon from its harness, "This room is boring!"

His voice echoed around the chamber so he called out again, "Boring... boring... boring... boring..."

Just then, the Epsilon unit began to hum loudly.

"Epsilon, shush!" Caboose hissed.

But the unit just hummed louder and began to glow brightly.

"Epsilon, seriously stop it!" Caboose yelled, placing the unit on the floor, "They're going to hear you!"

Suddenly, the unit split open like a flower and emitted a light so bright that Caboose had to cover his eyes.

When the light faded, he lowered his hands and stared in amazement, "It's you..."

 **XXX**

 **And next time, we find out who Caboose has found. Till next time guys!**


	7. Chapter 6: One New Message

**Chapter 6: One New Message**

As Caboose glanced around the chamber, the Epsilon unit split apart like a flower and emitted a light so bright he had to cover his eyes. When the light faded, he lowered his hands and stared in amazement.

There, standing over the unit was a glowing green Spartan, "It's you!"

"Hello, Caboose," the holographic figure said in a soft electronic voice, "It seems vague to say that it's good to see you again, although technically, that is untrue..."

"Delta!" Caboose breathed, "I thought you were gone! I thought you were erased at the... uh, electronic thing whose name some people have trouble remembering."

"Actually, this is not Delta," the hologram replied, "We simply thought that you would be most comfortable speaking to Delta."

Caboose frowned, "We?"

"Yes. Epsilon strongly remembers all the other AIs in fragments. When Alpha went insane, Epsilons carried the burden of those memories. We can appear as anyone, in this case Delta whom, from your stories, was a trusted source of information for you. Therefore, we felt it best that we take his likeness for this conversation."

"Oh, that makes sense."

"Yes, we thought you would say that."

Caboose smiled with intrigue, "So you can... appear as anyone?"

"Theoretically, yes. Anyone in our memory banks."

"What about a chair?"

Delta gave a befuddled frown, "If you felt that was fitting, the holographic technology in this room allows us to project ourselves in any matter. It is surprisingly advanced."

"How about a giraffe?"

"Look," Delta retorted, "Let's just say we can look like many different things and just leave it at that, okay?"

"Okay," Caboose replied tensely.

Delta let out a sigh, "We regret that we will not be able to appear to you or communicate with you outside this room, so you must listen carefully."

He then noticed that the Blue was looking very distracted, "Caboose, did you understand what-"

"I'm listening carefully," Caboose interrupted.

"All right, it can be hard to tell," Delta said, "Caboose, we need you to find a way to help us. Washington said, when Epsilon was recovered, that our memories could be used to punish the people who tortured Alpha."

"Okay," Caboose nodded.

"Washington will not trust us, and our new recent attempts to build a new body are not working."

Caboose pointed at his scorched armor, "We had a fire!"

"We remember," Delta confirmed, "Your friend from Red Team described a location nearby with a strange energy source."

"Oh, that's where Tucker is," Caboose recalled.

Delta looked puzzled, "We don't have many memories of him."

"Yeah, I never really liked him," Caboose admitted, "So I leave him out of most of my stories."

"The Freelancer Project found sources of intense energy, so a scenario team was sent to investigate the area, but they left without doing anything."

"They sound dumb," Caboose snorted.

"Indeed," Delta agreed in deep thought, "This place sounds like the location of the energy source. You should go there and investigate. We can explain more when the opportunity arises."

"Okay. I can help you do that, even if it helps Tucker too."

"Thank you, Caboose." Delta then looked up towards the platform, "We have to go now. Someone is coming. Remember, memory is the key."

And with that, Delta disappeared in a flash of light and the Epsilon unit closed up.

"What?" Caboose cried, "I thought we were done with that part."

"Aha! Somebody is down here!" Sarge's voice rang out.

Caboose spun round and spotted the Reds standing on the platform overhead.

"See?" Simmons shouted, "I told you it wasn't me who moved your favorite crate."

"All right, Simmons, I said I believed you," Sarge sighed, "So just drop it already!"

"I don't know why you liked that stupid thing so much anyway," Simmons mumbled.

As the Reds made their way down the ramp, Caboose quickly stuffed the Epsilon unit back into its harness and slipped it onto his back.

"Hey Blue!" Sarge yelled as he approached, "What do you think yer doing here? You better not have messed up any of my stuff!"

"Messed up what?" Grif asked puzzled, "Everything down here is fake."

"Yeah, but who knows how he could've sabotaged the system," Sarge replied, "Better run a diagnostic."

"Yeah," Simmons scoffed, "If he sabotaged anything, I'm sure he just ended up fixing it."

"What do you think you're doing down here, Blue?" Sarge yelled.

"Nothing," Caboose lied as he made for the ramp, keeping his back away from the Reds' view, "I was just, um, I was just looking around. I need to leave anyways. I have to pack."

"See?" Grif beamed, "Problem averted. Back to- Wait, you're leaving leaving?"

"Uh, I need to find my friend Tucker," Caboose replied.

"The guy in the desert?" Donut asked, "Awesome!"

"But then there won't be any more Blues here," Grif cried. "Just a Freelancer who can kick our-"

"Actually, I'm gonna go find Tucker and bring him back," Caboose cut in, "Then there will be three Blues, plenty for you to fight!"

"Why don't I have confidence in this mission?" Grif muttered.

"Yeah, it sounds super dangerous," Caboose agreed, "But I'm sure I can manage. I've done dangerous stuff before and I've always come out fine, both physically and..."

He paused.

The Reds glanced at each other nervously then Grif asked, "Uh, Caboose?"

"Mentally!" Caboose finished.

"Yeah, this is not going to work," Grif sighed, "Hey Sarge, permission to go on the Blues' stupid mission?"

"What?" Sarge and Simmons asked at once.

"Don't you see?" Grif explained, "If he dies on this mission - and let's be honest, when he dies on this mission - that means they won't be back in Command's records yet."

"Well, that's not good," Sarge agreed.

"But if I help him pull this off, then Command might notice them and put 'em back in."

"Excellent point, Grif," Sarge declared.

"No, it isn't," Simmons muttered.

"Permission granted."

Grif frowned in confusion, "Um, you've never actually said that to me before. That means yes, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay, just checking."

"And I'm coming with you."

"What?" Grif asked.

"WHAT!?" Simmons yelled.

Sarge turned to his pet private, "Simmons, how 'bout you, ya in?"

"Uh, I think I'll stay at the base and provide logistical support, Sir," Simmons decided.

"Sounds good," Sarge replied then he turned to Caboose, "Let's get a move on! We'll either restore the Blues or we fail and I get to watch you die! It's a no-lose!"

"Sounds perfect!" Caboose replied, following him out of the chamber.

"Wait!" Grif yelled, "You mean Simmons will get to hang out at the base while I go out on a dangerous mission?"

"That's right," Simmons chuckled, "Enjoy the limelight, Private Suck-Up. I'll just be hanging out here with Donut until you get back."

He then yawned and stretched his arms, "I think it's time for a nap."

"Oh man, this is going to be great," Donut cried, "It'll be like a sleepover! And we can decorate. How awesome is this gonna be? I'll go get my wallpaper book. Simmons, you be thinking about paint colors!"

Simmons and Grif watched Donut go then they both sighed, "Aw man, I think I'm regretting this already."

 **XXX**

 **I cannot blame you two... Oh, and just a heads up, Rhode will not be going to Sand Trap with them. Till next time guys!**


	8. Chapter 7: Bon Voyage

**Chapter 7: Bon Voyage**

With a new goal ahead of them, Sarge managed to urge Lopez to hurry up the upgrades on the Warthog Mk 3 v2. Although Lopez grumbled a bit, he finished the work on the jeep then Sarge spray-painted some red stripes on its sides and soon it was ready for departure.

As Grif and Caboose loaded their cases into the trunk under the turret, Sarge gave Simmons and Donut some instructions to do while he was gone, "...And get these water cans cleaned up while we're gone. How much water do you need to drink, Donut?"

"I was in a desert!" Donut protested, "Don't judge me."

"Maybe we should learn from that and bring some water ourselves," Grif suggested.

"Nonsense," Sarge replied, "It'll just slow us down."

"Slow us down more than dehydration, or death... by dehydration?"

"I don't know," Sarge retorted, "Let's say we try! I'll kill ya, and then I'll dry ya out. Who wants Grif-jerky?"

"Ah, no thanks," Caboose replied, "I already had donuts for breakfast."

Grif looked round at this, "Wait, what?"

"All right, let's get going," Sarge declared, "Everybody packed?"

"Yep," Caboose said.

"Where's your stuff?" Grif asked.

"Oh, I only carry a washcloth and six toothbrushes."

Rhode frowned, "I'm gonna assume that makes sense to you."

"Yeah, it does."

"Yeah, I thought so," Grif muttered, loading Sarge's case into the trunk, "We'll just go ahead and leave that one alone."

He then went to the front of the jeep, and while his back was turned, Caboose quickly loaded the Epsilon unit into the trunk.

Sarge meanwhile was staring at a huge pile of suitcases by the jeep, "Grif, why'd you pack so much?"

"Me?" Grif cried. "I only did one duffle."

"Well, what are all these cases?"

"Those are mine!" Donut called out.

"Donut, you're going with us?"

"No," Donut admitted, "But I wasn't gonna let you guys have all the packing fun to yourselves! That's the best part about going on vacation. I mean, besides airport security's full-cavity search-"

"Time to go!" Grif cut in as he climbed into the driver's seat.

Sarge then turned to his robot, "Lopez, I want you to take good care of Simmons and Donut while we're gone."

"¿Yo?" Lopez asked. (Me?)

"Feed them every day..."

"¿O sin plomo e stupendo?" (Do they eat Unleaded or Super Unleaded?)

"Exactly, and don't forget to let them out in the yard every now and then."

"I love yard time," Donut giggled.

Simmons ignored him as he waved to his leader, "Goodbye!"

"See ya later," Rhode said, "Try not to team kill. Caboose that goes triple for you."

"If we don't make it back from the mission, bury me and Grif as far apart as possible," Sarge informed them, "I don't want to get any corpse cooties."

"Why do you assume I'll be dead?" Grif asked before suddenly remembering, "Never mind."

"All aboard!" Sarge yelled, "Let's get this show on the road!"

Grif started the engine and loud Tejano music blared through the radio. Sarge climbed into the passenger seat while Caboose took position behind the turret.

"Hey, be careful with the new gun," Sarge warned, "It hasn't passed any real world testing yet."

"It hasn't passed any fake world testing," Simmons pointed out, "It's passed zero tests."

"Which means the enemy can't possibly know about it," Sarge argued, "We've got the initiative!"

"Yeah, we got something, ya big dummy," Simmons muttered irritably.

"We'll be back as soon as we help the Blue," Sarge promised, "And then we'll kill him."

Behind the turret, Caboose beamed at Sarge and Grif, "Guys, I really appreciate this."

"See you soon!" Sarge called with a wave, "Try not to get into any trouble!"

And with that, Grif hit the pedal and the Warthog drove off into the lake and disappeared beneath the surface, a trail of bubbles the only clue that they were there.

"Are we there yet?" Caboose griped.

"No!" Sarge yelled.

"Shut up!" Grif added.

"Good luck!" Donut shouted as he watched the bubbles disappear.

Lopez then turned to him, "¿Acaban de conducir en el agua?" (Did they just drive into the water?)

"Yes they did," Rhode sighed, "They're gonna die."

Donut was about to reply when he spotted Simmons running towards the upper level, "Hey, where are you going?"

"To blow up Blue Base," Simmons called back.

Donut grimaced, "Oh, I think that's what Sarge meant by 'get into trouble.'"

"I don't give a crap!" Simmons yelled as he was launched by the grav-lift into the valley.

"You do realize I have to kill you now right?" Rhode yelled, running after him.

 **XXX**

A while later, Donut and Lopez stood on a hill that overlooked the Blue Base.

After a while, Donut turned to the robot, "Lopez, Simmons has been gone a really long time."

"No cuido," Lopez muttered. (I don't care.)

"If Simmons blows up Blue Base, Rhode will kill Simmons! Sarge is gonna be really mad.

"Sí. Él es estúpido como ése." (Yes. He is stupid like that.)

Donut let out a sigh, "I'm worried about him."

"Sí, porque usted es estúpido como ése." (Yes, because you are stupid like that.)

"I think I'm gonna go over there and check on him," Donut decided.

"Lo que," Lopez muttered as the pink private ran off. (Whatever.)

 **XXX**

Simmons snuck his way into the Blue Base when he tripped on something and fell flat on his face.

When he looked round, he saw that he had tripped on the body of a black-armored Spartan then he noticed several pieces of machines and equipment scattered around the passage, "What the heck is all this stuff?"

"Oh, there you are!" Donut called, entering the passage, "Did you blow up the base yet?"

"Look at this mess, Donut" Simmons grumbled, getting to his feet. "It's like he wrecked the place."

"Oh yeah, that's Caboose's project," Donut replied.

Simmons stared at him in amazement, "This is what he's been working on?"

"He's trying to rebuild a body for that blue buddy of his." Donut glanced around at the mess, "Hmm, it looks like a piece is missing though."

"For the dead guy? Gimme a break," Simmons scoffed, "No wonder no one ever wins this war. We're all doing stuff like building lame robots."

Donut then pulled a face and pointed behind Simmons who turned round to see Lopez right there.

"Oh, hey, Lopez," he stammered, "Uh I didn't mean you, I meant other... robots..."

But Lopez just turned and ran out the door.

"That was kind of racist," Donut muttered.

"That's not true!" Simmons yelled, running out after Lopez. "I have lots of mechanical friends!"

"Oh hey Donut," Rhode said coming down the stairs to the base, "What're you doing here?"

"Oh, I was checking on Simmons," Donut answered, "He was trying to sneak around."

"Okay, well, just tell him not to try to blow this place up. I'm trying to live here. Oh and I'll kill him if he does."

"Okey Dokey," Donut answered as Rhode walked back to his room.

 **XXX**

Simmons caught up with Lopez as he reached the stream.

"Hey, Lopez, wait up!" he called out, "Hey man, I need some explosives."

Lopez turned round but he didn't reply.

"To blow up Blue Base?" Simmons added. "You know... did Sarge give you the key to the weapons locker?"

"Si," Lopez replied.

"Okay, I need about 50 kilos of plastic explosives," Simmons said. "Technically, five should do it but I really want to make sure Rhode goes with it. Can you go get it for me?"

"Miraré en ese," Lopez replied but he didn't budge. (I will look into that.)

"Uh... I need it right now?"

"Sí. Ahora comenzaré eso," Lopez stated without moving an inch. "Míreme van." (Yes, I'll get right on it. Look at me go.)

Simmons raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, you don't seem to be moving."

"Si," Lopez nodded.

Simmons glared at him. "This is about that robot comment isn't it?"

"Quizás," Lopez replied with a shrug. (Maybe.)

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, take it easy!" he called out, "Listen, Lopez, I'm not racist. I just didn't know you were standing there when I said that."

Lopez stopped walking and turned to glare at him, "Cómo eso le hace no racista?" (How does that make you not racist?)

"I had a lot of mechanical friends while growing up," Simmons replied, "Seriously, I am not a racist."

"Lo que," Lopez muttered. (Whatever.)

Simmons removed his helmet and pointed out the mechanical parts built into his face, "In fact, I'm one-eighth cyborg."

Lopez looked up at this, "Si?" (Really?)

"Yeah."

"En el lado de su madre?" (On your mother's side?)

"Yeah, you know, from my accident, when Sarge replaced all my organs."

"Oh de hecho." (Oh, right.)

"See?" Simmons beamed good-naturedly, "I'm down with the one-zero-one... zero-zero-one... thing."

"Nadie llamalos en eso," Lopez replied. (No one calls it that anymore.)

"Look, I'm just saying I'm sorry," Simmons sighed, "Now can you help me with those explosives? Please?"

Lopez gave a begrudging sigh, "Si." (I guess...)

"Okay... then we're cool?"

"Si. Bueno." (Yeah, we're cool.)

"Oh, that's a relief," Simmons sighed, replacing his helmet, "I was getting worried there for a minute. I know how you Mexicans like to hold a grudge."

He suddenly noticed that Lopez was glaring at him again, "I'll just find another way to blow up the base."

"Buena suerte con eso," Lopez said, turning to continue his trek back to base. (Good luck with that.)

 **XXX**

 **Is it just me, or can anything people say be considered racist nowadays? But what Simmons said was definitely racist. Till next time guys!**


	9. Chapter 8: Lay of the Land

**Chapter 8: Lay of the Land**

Simmons was thinking of other ways he could destroy the Blue Base when he spotted his pink teammate approaching, "Donut, where have you been?"

"Just talking with Rhode," Donut answered, "Oh, and he said that if you blew up his base, he'd kill you."

"Oh," Simmons gulped, "More reason to blow him up with it then. Did you find anything valuable?"

"Nah, there's not much over there," Donut admitted, "Just some spare parts from Caboose's 'build a new best friend' project... and it looks like he took that AI unit with him."

"So dumb," Simmons muttered then he gasped, "Wait, what? AI unit?"

"Yeah, it was kind of cool," Donut replied, "It was purple and it liked to hear old stories about-"

"What? He kept that!?" Simmons yelled, "He wasn't supposed to keep that! I thought he turned it in! That was part of the deal for getting our bases! We had to turn over all equipment!"

Donut frowned and scratched the top of his helmet, "You're talking to me about things that don't really make any sense. I've been kind of gone. I don't know if you noticed."

"I'm gonna tell Sarge and have him get it back from that idiot." Simmons then ran over to the long distance radio and switched it on, "Sarge, come in. Sarge, do you read?"

But he only got static in response.

"Ah, crap," he sighed, "Hey Lopez!"

"Si?" Lopez called from behind a boulder.

"Is the radio busted?"

Lopez sighed and stepped out from behind the rock, "Cómo será que nadie... quiere nunca hablar conmigo sobre todo lo demás?" (Busted radio... how come no one ever wants to talk to me about anything else?)

Simmons didn't understand so he tried speaking slowly to him, "The radio... no work? Call Sarge-o... Yes or no?"

"Usted habla Inglés que lo hago, (You speak English worse than I do.) Lopez then replied equally slowly, "Sí. Radio. Bueno. Asno. Encima al suelo." (Yes. Radio. Good. Butt. Up yours.)

"Then... how come... I can't... get... Sarge?"

"Su radio se revienta. Piensa, Einsteino." (Maybe their radio is busted, Einstein.)

"Can... you... fix... it?"

"Puedo fijar su radio, de aquí?" (Can I fix their radio from here?) Lopez rolled his eyes and replied sarcastically, "Sí. Porque soy mágico. Soy robostesa mágica." (Sure, because I am magic. I am a magical robot.)

Simmons let out a groan, "How come, in all these years of working with us, you haven't managed to learn one single word in English?"

"No sé," Lopez replied with a shrug, "Para evitar conversación tenga gusto de esto." (I don't know. Probably trying to avoid conversations like this.)

A long while later, Lopez finished his newest project then called out, "OK Simmons. Se hacen sus motocicletas." (Ok, Simmons. our motorcycles are ready.)

Simmons came round and gasped in amazement when he saw the two gleaming new vehicles parked on the ramp, "Wow, Lopez, that's great. You made motorcycles? Thanks."

Lopez nodded in satisfaction, "Ahora usted puede alcanzar a Sarge y le dice sobre ese unidad del AI." (Now you can catch up to Sarge and tell him about that AI unit.)

Simmons beamed in anticipation, "Now I can catch up to Sarge and tell him about that AI unit."

Lopez scowled, "Usted está imitando?" (Are you mocking me?)

"All right, I'll be back as soon as I can," Simmons said, "Come on, Donut!"

But there was no answer, "Hey, Lopez, did you see where Donut went?"

"No," Lopez replied, shaking his head. (No.)

"I bet he's over at Blue Base again. I'll go get him," Simmons let out a sigh, "Man, why do I have to do everything around here?"

"Usted?" Lopez cried, "Acabo de construir dos motocicletas." (You? I'm the one who's just built two motorcycles.)

"Yeah, I know, Lopez," Simmons muttered, "I guess I'm just naturally responsible and people take advantage of that. It's a curse really."

With that, he leapt onto one of the bikes and started the engine, "I'll go grab Donut and bring him back for his motorcycle."

"No. Ninguna motocicleta para él. No Donut," Lopez yelled. (No, that's not for Donut.)

"No, that's not for Donut?" Simmons repeated, "Then why'd you build a second one?"

"Eso es un repuesto," Lopez explained, "Sé mejor construiros siempre dos vehículos." (That's a spare. If there's anything I've learned about working with you idiots, it's 'always build two vehicles'.)

"Uh-huh, I don't even understand," Simmons muttered, "Okay, whatever Lopez, see you soon!"

With that, he revved the engine, drove the bike off the ramp... and immediately crashed it into a tree. With a sigh, he got off the bike and ran back up the ramp. "Hey, um, I'm just gonna take this other motorcycle."

"Las llaves están en la ignición," Lopez groaned, rolling his eyes. (The keys are in the ignition.)

 **XXX**

Inside the Blue Base, Donut hummed a little tune as he began to sort out the junk that Caboose had left in the passage.

"Man, Caboose sure can make a mess for just one person," he murmured, storing some wires in a nearby box, "Although I guess he was trying to make another person, which technically would make this a mess for two people."

As he gathered up some small parts to put in another room, he let out a sigh, "I think Caboose would be a great dad. I wonder if I should have a kid. I never really thought I wanted one. But as I get older, I start to think something is missing."

He sighed again as he put the components into a closet, "Aw, I hope I didn't wait too long. I've been so focused on my career and having a good time, maybe it's too late for me!"

Then he frowned, "Oh great, now I sound like my mother!"

Suddenly, he got the feeling that he wasn't alone and slowly turned round. There, stepping out of the shadows was a soldier wearing white armor with brown shoulder pads and a wide-visored helmet, and carrying a huge gun ending in a blade on its back and a pistol in his hand.

"Oh, hi there," Donut smiled, "You scared me. I didn't know anyone else was over here at Blue Base."

The figure didn't reply, but instead let out a low hiss.

"Strong silent type, huh? That's cool," Donut said, "Don't mind me; I'm just keeping the base a little tidy. A clean base is a deadly base, that's what Sarge always says. Sarge is our commander. You'll get a Sarge over here I'm sure, but he won't be like our Sarge; he'll be Blue!"

The soldier just growled slightly.

"Man, the rest of our guys will be so happy to have someone new to fight," Donut chuckled, "They're gonna be so relieved to see you! What did you say your name was?"

The soldier narrowed his eyes and growled again.

"Hmm, foreign, huh? Love the accent, it really works for you," Donut stepped forwards but his foot hit a large piece of metal, "I should probably move this."

He bent down to shift it and thus missed the bullet that the figure shot from his pistol, "Aw, don't worry buddy, I already checked their weapons. They're all good, but thanks for helping!"

The soldier growled in irritation as he put his pistol away and took out his brute shot.

Donut turned his attention on Tex's body and tried in vain to push it aside, "Oof, this thing's heavy! Maybe if I grab the legs..."

He moved to one side just as the soldier swung his blade forward, knocking the body aside.

"Well, that was helpful, thanks!" Donut cried as he looked round, "Where'd you get that awesome broom?"

The soldier stepped forward with a hiss but then Donut heard the sound of an engine coming from outside, "Uh... do you hear that?"

Outside, Simmons slowed the bike down and called out, "Hey, Donut, are you in there? Lopez built you a motorcycle!"

Just then, the bike stalled and smoke emitted from the engine, "It's broken."

"Hey!" Donut responded, "Yeah Simmons, I'm inside the Blue Base. Guess what? Blue Team got a new soldier!"

"What? They sent another member?" Simmons frowned as he dismounted the bike and stepped into the base, "Why would they do that? That doesn't make any sense."

He made his way into the passage and saw Donut. Then he looked round and recoiled in horror as he saw that standing behind Donut, holding a brute shot in his hands... was the Meta!

"OH CRAP!" he yelped before turning and running back the way he'd come, "Welcome to the neighborhood, see you later!"

With a loud roar, the Meta set off in pursuit.

 **XXX**

Inside the base, Rhode heard the roar and looked outside. His eyes widened when he saw Simmons being chased by the Meta. He got out his sniper rifle to shoot, but by then, they were gone from sight.

'Okay,' he thought, 'Just be patient, Rhode. Wait and see how things play out. Then kill Maine.'

 **XXX**

 **And the Meta has returned with a vengeance! Till next time guys!**


	10. Chapter 9: Called Up

**Chapter 9: Called Up**

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Simmons screamed as he pelted across the valley, jumping aside to avoid the motorcycle hurled at him and ducking to avoid the bullets being fired at him as the Meta set off in hot pursuit.

Meanwhile at the Red Base at Valhalla, Lopez hummed to himself as he finished the repairs on the first motorcycle, hoping that Simmons would treat this better.

Just then, he heard a voice calling out, "LOOOOOOPEEEEEEZZZZ!"

He looked up and saw Simmons running straight towards him.

"No!" he yelled, jumping protectively in front of the bike, "Acabo de fijar esto. Ésta es el mío." (No! I just fixed this. This one is mine. Stay away!)

"He's here!" Simmons yelped as he approached, "He's here!"

"Quién?" (Who?)

"The bad guy!" Simmons panted in terror, "The guy who wants to kill us!"

Lopez folded his arms, "Me necesito ser más específico que ése." (You're going to have to be more specific than that.)

"The Meta!" Simmons yelled, "He's here!"

"Qué? Aquí?" Lopez gasped, "Pensé que el es muerto." (What? Here? I thought he was dead.)

Simmons then looked round and his eyes widened, "Oh geez, look out!"

He pushed Lopez down just before a rocket zoomed over their heads.

Simmons then turned and gasped as he spotted the Meta cresting the hill, "Holy crap!"

"Madre de Dios!" Lopez cried.

"Lopez, we need some big guns!" Simmons ordered.

"OK. Ve que pueda hacer," Lopez replied, running into the base. (Ok. That I can do.)

"I'll grab the rocket launcher," Simmons yelled, pulling one out of a nearby crate, "Just grab whatever you can, Lopez! I'm trained to handle this weapon."

He turned round to look for the Meta and spotted him coming up the other side of the base, "Lopez? Anybody?"

With a growl, the Meta stopped by the motorcycle and raised his brute shot at Simmons who swallowed his fear and hefted the rocket launcher, "All right you jerk, prepare to get Simmonsized!"

With that, he pressed the trigger and a rocket shot out towards the Meta... but it just hit the motorcycle and sent it flying over the rogue Freelancer's head before smashing into the cliff face. With a hiss, the Meta turned his attention back to Simmons.

"Well, I'm dead," Simmons dropped the launcher and closed his eyes, preparing himself for the end.

The Meta raised his gun again... but then a missile shot out from the base's entrance and slammed into his side, sending him flying off the ramp and crashing down into the lake.

Cautiously, Simmons opened one eye and looked up to see Lopez coming out of the base, carrying a missile pod, "Usted dijo 'Simmonsized'?" (Did you seriously just say 'Simmonsized'?)

"Lopez!" Simmons cried out in joy.

"Cierre la cogida," Lopez snapped, "Usted rompió motocicleta." (Shut up. You broke my motorcycle again.)

Simmons and Lopez used the advantage they had gained on the Meta to run back into the base and quickly barricaded the entrance with crates so he couldn't get in.

"Keep watching your motion tracker," Simmons ordered, shoving another crate onto the pile, "These guys can turn invisible."

"Es eso donde él fue?" Lopez asked. (Is that where he went?)

Outside, the water rippled as the invisible Meta stalked out of the lake but then he suddenly shifted into view again before disappearing and then reappearing once more. With an angry roar, he ran off into the valley.

In the Base, Simmons flinched as he heard the Meta. "Whoa, did you hear that?"

Lopez then looked up in alarm, "Tengo algo en mi perseguidor de movimiento." (I have something on my motion tracker.)

"Yeah, it was loud," Simmons whimpered.

"No, Usted idiota! Allá!" Lopez pointed down the passage. (No, you idiot! Over there!)

Simmons looked round and he heard footsteps ringing out from round the corner. Quickly he and Lopez whipped out their assault rifles and pointed them out. With a glance at each other, they reloaded in perfect synchrony and then prepared themselves as a figure stepped round the corner...

"Hey guys, 'sup!" Donut called out.

Simmons lowered his gun in amazement, "Donut?"

But Lopez kept his rifle trained, "Usted no dijo a este individuo para cambiar color?" (Didn't you say this guy could change color?)

"I just finished cleaning up Blue Base," Donut said, "What's going on over here?"

"Pienso que debemos tirarlo apenas para ser seguros," Lopez suggested. (I think we should shoot him just to be safe.)

Simmons held his hand up to Lopez and stepped forward.

"Donut, that guy attacked me!" he yelled, "I ran out of the base screaming. Why didn't you help me?"

Donut shrugged, "You guys seemed like you knew each other. I thought you were just catching up."

"He was firing grenades at me!"

"Yeah, so, I thought it was an inside joke between the two of you."

"What?" Simmons snapped, "What kind of joke would that be?"

"Well, how would I know?" Donut retorted, "I've been gone a long time, Simmons."

"What!?"

"In fact," Donut added, folding his arms, "it was clear that I didn't know the guy, so shame on you for not introducing us. And quite frankly, I found the whole thing a bit rude!"

"Why don't you find Rhode?" Simmons suggested.

"Um, would he want to help you?"

"Good point."

"Seriamente, podría apenas tirar del respirador ahora," Lopez said. (Seriously, we could just bury him out back. We wouldn't even have to tell anybody.)

Simmons quickly gave Donut the rundown about how the Meta had almost killed them and how they managed to stop it the first time. Now they prepared themselves to face the rogue Freelancer.

Simmons checked the clip on his assault rifle, "I'm out."

"Me too," Donut said, shaking out the spent pistol rounds.

Lopez checked his rifle and shook his head sadly.

"Well, that's it," Simmons sighed, "I guess we're done then."

"Yeah..." Donut swallowed nervously. "Simmons, I have to say, I didn't think I would go out like this."

"Yeah, whatever, that's nice."

Donut frowned, "You're not curious how I thought I would go out?"

"No, no, not in the least."

"How 'bout you; did you think you'd go out like this?"

"Underequipped and surrounded by people I hate? Yeah, that's pretty much how I pictured it since I got assigned to this unit. You see, I'm a realist."

Lopez bowed his head, "Pensé siempre con conseguir el sacado por mantenimiento pobre." (I always thought I would be taken out by poor maintenance.)

"Lopez is right," Simmons declared, "We need to think of something."

"Can we escape?" Donut asked hopefully.

"I don't see how," Simmons replied. "He's faster and stronger than us."

"Alguien hizo saltar todos nuestros vehículos," Lopez added, glaring at Simmons. (Plus, somebody blew up all our vehicles.)

"Good idea, Lopez!" Donut cried.

Simmons did a double-take, "You understood what he said?"

"Yeah," Donut replied, "High school Spanish, remember? He said the Meta must have gotten here someway."

Lopez looked puzzled, "Hice?" (I did?)

Donut nodded, "We just need to find his vehicle, and steal it!"

Simmons smiled, "That's a good idea, Lopez!"

"Es?" Lopez asked, "Ningún no es." (It is? No, it isn't.)

"Okay, let's think," Simmons said, rubbing his chin, "If you were a crazed lunatic, where would you hide a vehicle?"

"Él lo disimulo quizás," Lopez suggested. (Maybe he cloaked it, That's what I would do.)

"A garage is too obvious, Lopez," Donut argued, "We need to think of something crazier."

"Para el traducir para mí!" (Stop translating for me!)

"Crazier!"

"Eso no era incluso uno sugerencia!" (That wasn't even a suggestion!)

"Well, clearly Lopez is just having an off-day," Simmons decided, "So let's ignore him."

Lopez glowered at him, "Cojale los individuos." (Screw you guys.)

Simmons ignored him as he went back to his thoughts, "So we're looking for some kind of vehicle, probably parked by Blue Base..."

"Si usted sepa que hay un vehículo!" (You're talking as if you know there is a vehicle!)

Donut then had a thought, "What if it only has two seats?"

"Hmm, I didn't think about that," Simmons admitted, "Hey Lopez, turn off your ears for a second."

"Qué?" Lopez asked. "No puedo hacer eso." (What? Why would I do that?)

"Okay, are they off?"

Lopez gave a suspicious frown, "Sí, están apagados. Ese es porque puedo contestarle." (Yes, they're off. That's why I can answer you.)

"Okay, good!" Simmons then took Donut aside and whispered, "If there's no room, we'll just leave Lopez. He's pretty much expendable, and they won't be able to get any info outta him anyway."

"I feel bad about it, though," Donut muttered, "He's been so loyal..."

"So what? He's a robot. He has to be loyal! Dogs are loyal too, but that doesn't mean you can't eat them when you're stranded in an arctic outpost and Command can't get rations through because of a seasonal blizzard."

Donut looked appalled, "That seems like a very specific example..."

"I don't want to talk about it," Simmons scowled, "Hey Lopez, you can turn your ears back on now."

Lopez, who'd actually heard the entire thing, resisted the urge to throttle Simmons, "Click. Oh, puedo oír otra vez. Un que milagro." (CLICK. Oh, I can hear again. What a freaking miracle.)

 **XXX**

 **Man, I just realized how little Rhode appears in this first half... Oh well. I have to get past this until the others get back. Till next time guys!**


	11. Chapter 10: Trust Issues

**Chapter 10: Trust Issues**

Rhode kept watch through the scope of his rifle, looking for any sign of Maine. He knew the Meta would not be easy to take down. From what he read in the database, Maine had survived injuries nobody else possibly could have, such as getting stabbed in the stomach by a giant knife, shot repeatedly in the throat, and shot in the chest with sniper rifles.

'I'm in for one heck of a fight,' Rhode thought.

 **XXX**

Meanwhile, the Reds headed for the back entrance and removed the crates that blocked the way. Simmons carefully stepped outside, looked around for any signs of the Meta and then ducked back inside.

"Okay, here's the plan," he hissed. "We run straight for Blue Base. Keep your heads up and stay in formation. Lopez, you take the lead."

"Porqué tengo que llevar?" Lopez asked. (Why do I have to be in front?)

"Exactly," Simmons said. "I'll follow you, Lopez."

"I'll handle your rears!" Donut giggled.

Simmons grimaced. "Okay, change of plan: I'll be last. Lopez, you still go out in front."

"Por supuesto," Lopez muttered, stepping outside. (Of course I'm in front.)

"Donut, you'll be in the middle," Simmons said.

With a giggle, Donut ran out after Lopez, "It'll be a Donut sandwich, mmm-mmm!"

"Dang it, Donut, you can ruin anything," Simmons scowled.

With that, they set off into the valley, keeping their eyes peeled for any movement. They raced through the river and then stopped behind a boulder.

"Do you see anything?" Simmons hissed.

"Si viera algo, estaría tirándolo, pendejo," Lopez grunted. (If I saw something, I would be shooting, idiot.)

"Well, keep your eyes open then."

Lopez rolled his eyes, "Porque usted me hace preguntas si usted nunca entiende las respuestas?" (Why do you guys always ask me questions if you never understand the answers?)

"He's white, Lopez! God, we've been over this."

"Dios mío."

As they set off again, Donut glanced around nervously, "Simmons, I'm scared."

"It's okay," Simmons murmured, "We're all scared, Donut."

"Mí no asusta," Lopez retorted, "Hice respaldos de mí." (I'm not scared. I made back-ups of myself this morning.)

A minute later, Simmons, Donut and Lopez had reached the Blue Base without any problems.

"Okay," Simmons hissed as they stepped towards the building, "Look for anything that looks like a vehicle. It may have wheels and/or seats."

"Sabemos cuáles es un vehículo!" Lopez snapped. (We know what a vehicle looks like!)

"Stay calm. Don't panic."

"Usted es el que ese que se atarita!" (You're the one who's panicking!)

"Lopez is right," Donut muttered nervously, "Maybe we should panic."

Simmons then made his way towards a boulder, "I'll try back here. It has to be- OOF!"

He suddenly bumped right into an invisible object and slumped to the ground, "...somewhere."

"What the heck was that?" Donut cried.

He and Lopez ran up just in time to see a Warthog appear out of nowhere, "What, an invisible car? That's too cool."

"The Meta must've cloaked it," Simmons coughed, staggering to his feet.

"Dije tan," Lopez muttered. (Told you so.)

"I've never seen anything like this before either, Lopez," Simmons hissed.

"Cójale!" (Screw you!)

"Okay, everybody, hop in," Simmons ordered, jumping into the driver's seat, "Let's get the crap out of here."

Simmons turned the key in the Warthog but the engine just made stuttering sounds, "Dang it, it won't start."

"El quitó probablemente el arrancador," Lopez assumed. (He probably took out the starter. That's what I would do.)

Simmons glanced down at the wheel, "Hmmm, it looks like he took out the starter."

Lopez let out a sigh, "Realmente. Nada mierda." (Really... Well, no crap.)

"What do we do?" Donut whimpered.

"Empujaremos el coche," Lopez ordered, "Usted hace estallar el embrague!" (Stay in there! We'll push the car. You pop the clutch.)

"It's no good," Donut sobbed, "We can't do anything! All hope is lost."

"Seriamente. Solamente diez pies!" (Seriously. We only need to push it about ten meters!)

Suddenly, there was a loud roar and Simmons looked up with a gasp of horror, "Oh no, the Meta!"

Lopez whirled round and saw the Meta stomping closer towards them, "Oh mierda."

"What are we gonna do without any ammo?" Donut yelped, "We're trapped."

"Ha, this thing always has ammo," Simmons leapt out of the driver's seat and ran over to the turret.

"No dará vueltas sin la energía, idiota," Lopez warned. (You won't be strong enough to turn it without power.)

Simmons grabbed the turret, opened fire and tried to turn it round but could only go about three inches in either direction, "Oh, crap."

Lopez rolled his eyes, "Usted puedo convencerlo quizá colocarse delante de él," he muttered sarcastically. (Maybe you could convince him to stand in front of him.)

"What?" Simmons asked as he jumped down.

"He said maybe you could convince the Meta to stand in front of it," Donut interpreted, correctly for once.

"That's a stupid plan, Lopez," Simmons scoffed, "Try to actually help."

Lopez stared at them in disbelief, "Seriamente. Que usted entendía?" (Come on, really? THAT was the only thing you understood?)

"I agree, Lopez," Donut replied, "Pencils are great."

As the Meta drew closer, Donut gulped and grabbed his teammate's hand and Simmons shook him off. Lopez meanwhile was psyching himself up, deciding whether he should flee and leave them to it or to charge at the Meta and possibly get torn apart. Rhode, meanwhile, carefully aimed his rifle at the Meta's head.

But then, Simmons spotted another figure running out from behind some boulders, a Spartan-II wearing steel-grey armor with a yellow stripe on its helmet and yellow shoulder pads.

"Agent Washington..." he breathed then aloud, "It's Agent Washington!"

"Who?" Donut asked.

Rhode's eyes widened and he smiled at the sight of his old friend.

At once, Washington ran up, drew out a pistol and pointed it at the Meta, "Stop right there!"

The Meta halted in his tracks and turned to Wash with a hissing growl.

"Yes, we're saved!" Simmons cheered.

But then Wash stepped up to the Meta and glared at him, "Stand down, I'll take it from here."

The Meta hissed again and Rhode began to frown.

"I said, back off!" Wash snapped and the Meta obeyed.

Simmons' jaw dropped, "Wha-What's happening?"

Wash turned and pointed his pistol at him, "Where is it?"

"Where's what?" Simmons cried, "Why aren't you two fighting?"

"The Epsilon unit," Wash replied, "I know you have it. Give it to me."

Lopez turned slowly to Simmons, "Pensé que éste su amigo?" (I thought this guy was your friend?)

"Wait, wait, wait," Simmons gasped, "You're working with... the Meta?"

Wash cocked his gun and growled, "Don't make me repeat myself!"

"Qué se está entendiendo?" Lopez cried. (Would someone explain what's going on?)

In response, Wash turned and fired at Lopez. The robot's visor shattered, sparks flew from his helmet and with a warbled cry, he fell to the ground. Rhode's jaw dropped at the sudden action.

"Oh my God, he just shot Lopez!" Donut screamed.

Wash turned round again and fired once more. Donut's body jerked back and behind him, the Warthog's windscreen shattered. Rhode felt himself flinch when he heard the shot.

Simmons stared at his teammate in horror, "Donut?"

Donut said nothing but placed a hand on his chest before looking down and seeing it stained with blood, "Hey, Simmons... I think he shot me too..."

And then with a gasp, he collapsed face forward to the ground.

"DONUT! NOOOOO!" Simmons screamed, kneeling by the pink private's side, "Donut, Donut! Are you okay? Come on, breathe, Donut! Breathe!"

He then turned and glared at Wash, "Why did you do that? What's wrong with you?"

Rhode was thinking the same thing, unable to move due to the shock the situation he was witnessing was producing.

Wash said nothing, the only thing passing through his mind being the last conversation with the Chairman...

 **XXX**

"Now, Agent Washington, I just have one more question for you," Malcolm said as he watched Wash getting back into his armor, "Agent Washington? Agent Washington, are you listening to me?"

"Mm?" Wash asked, looking up, "Yes, I'm listening."

"Agent Washington, when you find these Blue soldiers that you're talking about, what makes you think that they are just going to give you the Epsilon unit when you ask them for it?"

Wash just chuckled as he slipped his helmet on, "For as long as I can remember, I've been lied to, taken advantage of, shot in the back, and left for dead. And now I have a way out of this..."

He looked up at the monitor with an angry and serious face, "What on earth makes you think that I'm going to ask for it?"

 **XXX**

 **And now we're halfway through this book! Recreation has ended, and now on to Revelation! Till next time guys!**


	12. Chapter 11: For Those Just Joining Us

**Chapter 11: For Those of You Just Joing Us...**

A long while later, a Spartan-II super soldier in bright purple armor stood on a hill and surveyed the scene. After a while, he turned on the com-link in his helmet and attempted to make contact with Command.

"Come in, Command," he transmitted, "Come in, Command, this is Medical Officer DuFresne. I have arrived at Freelancer Program Simulation Outpost 17."

He waited for a reply but he heard only static.

DuFresne tapped the side of his helmet to clear the static while keeping an eye out for trouble, "Command, come in! Come in, this is Medical Officer DuFresne. I have reached FPS Outpost 17!"

"Hey, down here, we're over here!" a voice suddenly rang out.

DuFresne looked round and spotted a Spartan standing outside the Blue Base, waving to him in a very awkward manner, "Hey, come down here!"

"Never mind, Command, I think I see the objective, "DuFresne sighed as he switched off the radio and set off into the valley, "Stupid radio doesn't work anyway, what else is new?"

After a few minutes of walking, he reached the Blue Base and spotted the Spartan who'd called him over.

His back was turned to him but DuFresne could now see up close that his armor was maroon, "Holy cow! Simmons, is that you?"

In response, the Spartan glanced over his shoulder, showing an anxious looking face with short dark hair, hazel-green eyes and cyborg parts built into his Freon tear-stained cheeks, "Oh, hey Doc. Man, I didn't know they'd sent you."

Doc smiled as he remembered his old nickname, "Yeah, we got the radio call and I was the closest medic so they sent me. But I didn't know it'd be you guys! Small galaxy, huh? Man, we got a lotta catching up to do. So what's up, somebody hurt or what? What's going on?"

Simmons just sighed and stepped aside, revealing the blood-stained body of his pink teammate Donut, "Him."

"Him?" Doc stepped forward, knelt next to Donut and felt for a pulse, "Um, he's dead."

"Yeah, he is," Simmons muttered, "He was shot."

Doc nodded as he noted the bullet wound in Donut's chest, "Um, Simmons, I know it's been a while since we've seen each other, and I have increased my skill as a medic in that time, but dead is still pretty much outside my jurisdiction."

Simmons just bowed his head sadly, "Man, I just didn't know they'd sent you."

"Yeah, you said that already." Doc glanced over his shoulder with a frown, "Hey, is everything okay?"

"It's not my fault, Doc," Simmons stammered, "I-I had to make the call, they made me. They needed someone with medical training."

"What're you talkin' about?" Doc got to his feet and turned round... and that's when he noticed that Simmons' wrists were tightly bound together with thick rope.

"I didn't mean for you to get involved," Simmons sobbed, turning his head away, "I'm sorry, really."

Doc looked puzzled, "Sorry about what?"

"He's sorry about us," a new voice replied behind him.

Doc whirled round to find that a Spartan with yellow highlights on his steel-grey armor had stepped out of the Base, holding a machine gun in his hands, "Uh-oh."

But before he could make a move, he suddenly felt a blow to the back of his head and fell to the ground. As his vision blurred, he could see a white-and-brown soldier with a wide-visored helmet stepping out from behind Simmons before everything went black...

 **XXX**

Rhode watched as Maine knocked Doc unconscious and bound his wrists together. Rhode didn't know what to do anymore. Wash was now his enemy. Now the only ones who could be trusted were his simulation trooper friends. But Rhode had no means of contacting Caboose or Sarge. He just has to wait...

Maine and Wash had set up their main means of a base inside Blue Base. Simmons hadn't told them that anyone else was here, so Rhode has the element of surprise on his side. He just needed the perfect opportunity.

A while later, Doc slowly opened his eyes and sat up with a groan, "Ow, my head..."

He lifted his hand to rub it but he felt both arms get raised. Then his vision cleared and he discovered that his wrists were bound with tightly-knotted rope. He also couldn't see his HUD in front of him, which meant that his helmet had been removed.

Next to him, Simmons let out a sigh of relief, "Doc, you're alive. Good."

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Doc muttered, "Why'd you hit me?"

"I didn't hit you, they did." Simmons pointed and Doc looked up to see the grey soldier and the white soldier looking out into the valley.

"Jerks," Doc scowled, "Who are they?"

"The dark one's Washington. He's a Freelancer."

"Oh great, 'cos those guys are always such a blast to hang around with," Doc grumbled sarcastically.

"The big one, we call the Meta."

"But rumor had it those guys were disbanded," Doc recalled, "Everyone went to jail."

"Yeah, well I guess they got paroled," Simmons sighed.

"You two, quiet," Washington snapped.

The Meta was pressing buttons on his armor but they only let out sparks and he let out a growl of anger.

"Then you need to stop trying to use all of them," Wash berated, "You just don't have the resources anymore."

Rhode raised an eyebrow. The Meta couldn't use his equipment? That's good to know.

"The Meta killed a bunch of other Freelancers and took their equipment," Simmons hissed.

Doc nodded as he watched the Meta disappear and then reappear again in a flash of sparks, "Like the invisibility?"

"Yeah, and the shield and the thing that slows down time," Simmons agreed, "He also stole their AI fragments, but those all got wiped out. Now something seems, I don't know... wrong with him."

"An AI fragment? That I remember," Doc let out a chuckle, "Hey Simmons, remember that AI I had for a while? That thing was crazy."

At this, the Meta whirled round and suddenly, with superhuman speed, he darted forward, grabbed Doc around the throat and hoisted him off his feet, "Yipes!"

"Halt, Meta, stop!" Wash cried out.

Doc grabbed at his throat and choked out, "Simmons, help me!"

Wash stepped up to Doc, "You, what did you just say?"

"Th-that I had one of your AI units?" Doc stammered breathlessly.

With a growl, the Meta tightened his grip on Doc, making the medic gasp and choke.

"Stand down," Wash ordered, "You said had. Where is it now?"

"Gone," Doc gasped.

"Which one?"

"Uh, uh the mean one."

"Its name, did you know its name?"

"Uh, O'Malley- I mean uh, Omega."

The Meta let out a hiss of annoyance and released his grip, dropping Doc and sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Well, that one's been accounted for," Wash muttered.

"I-I only had it for a short time," Doc coughed, rubbing his bruised neck.

"Well then, good," Wash sneered, "You know what to look for. I need a complete scan of my friend here. And I would recommend you don't use any needles. He hates needles, and we wouldn't wanna make him angry, now would we?"

Behind him, the Meta cracked his knuckles with a growl and Doc gulped nervously. But then the radio began to beep.

"Red Base, do you read me? Come in! Give me some more power, shot-put."

Wash pointed his gun at Simmons' head and signaled him to answer.

Simmons cleared his throat, got on his knees, and said, "Uh Sarge, yeah, hi."

"Who is this?" Sarge yelled, "Identify yourself."

"It's me, Simmons. Sorry, Sir."

"How is everything going here, Simmons?"

"Here? Uh, fine I guess. Everything's good. How 'bout you guys?"

"Mission is complete. We're preparing to head out soon."

"What was that?" Simmons asked, with a nervous edge to his voice, "Sorry, some static here... This radio's a little messed up. It's been a bit rainier here."

"I said we're comin' back soon," Sarge repeated.

"Oh that's great. Hey, when do you think that'll be exactly?"

"Hard to say, Simmons," Sarge replied, "We'll let you know."

Okay Sarge, sounds good."

"Over and out," Sarge said and the long-distance radio went dead.

"Okay, good," Wash said, pulling Simmons back to his feet, "Now get back over there."

As Simmons was pushed back, Doc looked up in hope, "That was your Sergeant?"

"Yeah," Simmons muttered as he sat up.

"You think he'll come help us?"

"No, I couldn't say anything to him," Simmons admitted with a sigh, "If they come, they'll be walking straight into a trap."

Rhode sighed. There goes a chance of rescue...

Washington untied Doc so that he could do a quick examination of the Meta.

After ten minutes, the former Agent approached him, "Doc, what did you find in your scan of the Meta?"

"Um, it's hard to say, "Doc put his medical scanner back on his belt then ran a hand through his short brown hair, "He's added so much non-standard equipment to his armor that I can't really get a good reading on him."

"I didn't ask you to run an intelligence report on him," Wash growled, "I wanted a medical one."

"His power systems are stressed from trying to maintain it all. Is he missing some component that controls all this-"

"Physically," Wash cut in, "Is he fine, physically?"

"Yeah, I guess," Doc muttered.

"Good. Next time answer the question I ask, "Wash then retied Doc's wrists and pushed him over to Simmons, "I'm watching you two. Give me any trouble and you're dead. Don't believe me, ask your buddy about his friend Donut."

As Wash turned away, Doc gave a nervous glance at Simmons, "Hey, he does realize that I'm the one who scanned Donut's dead body, right?"

"I think he was just making a point," Simmons then looked at Doc's scanner and he gave a shrewd smile, "Hey, I have an idea! Give me your scanner."

"My scanner?" Doc asked puzzled, "Why? It can't be used as a weapon."

"Maybe it can," Simmons replied, "If I can overload the power-cell, you may be able to fire an over-charged burst. It could short out the Meta's systems. Either that or..."

He tailed off.

"Or what?"

"Huh, what? No-no-no-no, no 'or', just that, forget the 'or'."

Doc's eyes narrowed, "You were going to say explode, weren't you?"

"...Nooooo."

"Were you thinking explode?"

"Just give me the stupid scanner," Simmons snapped and Doc obeyed.

Rhode looked out at the valley and set his sights on a soldier in red armor. His eyes widened when he saw it was Sarge. He also saw that Wash also took notice of the Red Leader.

'Whatever you're up to Simmons,' Rhode thought, 'It better be done quick.'

By the railing, the two ex-Freelancers scanned the valley for a while when the Meta pointed out some movement by the Red Base. Wash zoomed in the vision in his helmet until he could see a red figure wandering around the building.

"Oh Simmons," the figure called out, "Simmons, where are you? Yoo-hoo!"

"It looks like just one of them," Wash muttered.

The Meta let out an angry growl.

"I don't know if he has it," Wash replied, "I can't see from this far."

The Meta turned to go but Wash held him back, "No, you stay here and guard these two. I'll go out there."

The Meta hissed in query.

"If he gives me any trouble, just kill the prisoners and come help me."

With that, Wash stepped onto the grav-lift and was shot out into the valley.

Doc, who had listened in on the conversation, looked over to Simmons nervously, "I hope your friend doesn't give him any trouble."

Simmons sighed grimly as he worked on the scanner with great difficulty, "If it's one of my friends, we won't stand a chance."

 **XXX**

Sarge finished his search of the Red Base and made his way over to a large wall built into one side of the valley, "Maroon 1, Maroon 1, where are you?"

Nearby Washington peeked out from behind a boulder, "Great, this guy..."

Then he stepped out and pointed his machinegun at Sarge, "Freeze! Stay where you are. Take off your helmet and turn around."

Sarge did so and his eyebrows furrowed over his squinted eyes, "Well, well, if it isn't our good buddy, Agent Washington. And just what are you doing here?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Sarge," Wash snapped, "I think you know why I'm here. Where are the rest of your guys? Where's Epsilon?"

"Somewhere safe," Sarge replied.

Wash scowled, "You can either tell me, or you can tell the Meta back at the base."

Sarge gripped his shotgun tightly, "The Meta is here?"

"Yes. And he really wants a chance to repay you for all the trouble you caused him."

"I seem to recall you caused him some of that trouble yourself."

"Situation's changed. Now drop your weapons and your helmet."

With a sigh, Sarge tossed his shotgun down with his helmet and Wash picked them up, "Just so you know, I'm going to want that back in a minute."

"I said drop your weapon," Wash growled.

"All my weapons?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?" Sarge asked, drawing out his magnum, "Maybe I can just keep the pistol. You know these things aren't as effective as they used to be. At least, that's what people say."

"Drop it, now!" Wash demanded and Sarge reluctantly obeyed, "Good. Now march."

But Sarge just folded his arms, "Son, you can insult me, you can ambush me, you can even take away my weapons, but if you think I'm gonna set one single pinky toe inside Blue Base without my shotgun, you must not know who you're dealin' with."

"I said move," Wash ordered.

"And I said shotgun."

"Yes, I have your shotgun."

"No, I mean... shot gun!" This time, Sarge glanced towards the wall.

"What is this?" Wash scoffed, "You think I'm going to give you back your shotgun because you asked?"

"I said shotgun!" Sarge bellowed at the wall. "Shotgun, dang it!"

"Oh yeah, shotgun!" a voice hissed behind the wall, "That's my cue."

"What?" Wash glowered at Sarge, "What are you up to?"

Then a loud vrooming roar reached his ears, "Wait, what is that noise? Do I hear a-"

Suddenly the wall exploded into pieces as, like a wrecking ball, the Warthog Mk 3 v2 burst straight through it, Grif behind the wheel! Sarge quickly dived out of the way, but Wash was taken completely by surprise.

"-CAR?!"

He dropped Sarge's helmet and turned to run, but the Warthog smashed right into him and dragged him under the bumper.

"Ha-hah, how's my bumper taste, moron!?" Grif cried out in triumph.

But then Wash stuck his hand over the front and grabbed onto the bonnet, "Uh-oh!"

With some effort and a near slip, Wash pulled himself onto the bonnet and raised his machinegun.

"Oh no!" Grif ducked down sideways behind the dashboard as Wash opened fire, shattering the windscreen, "Yikes!"

Quickly Grif slammed his foot onto all six pedals at once and the Warthog swerved round sideways, launching Wash off the bonnet and across the valley. As he flew, Wash tossed his machinegun aside and drew out the shotgun, but as he passed a large boulder, Sarge snatched the gun back from him, much to the former Freelancer's surprise.

"Huh?" he cried seconds before he crashed into a pile of fusion coil barrels.

"See?" Sarge yelled out, putting his helmet back firmly onto his head, "I told you I'd get it back."

Grif pulled up next to the rock, allowing Sarge to take the passenger seat, "How about next time we use a code word, we choose something you don't say every five seconds?"

"Just drive, numbnuts," Sarge grunted.

Grif drove the Warthog in a circle round the barrels as Wash staggered to his feet, completely dazed.

Sarge then stood up in the seat and pointed his shotgun out with one hand, "Agent Wash!"

Wash scowled in anger, "Son of a-"

Sarge smirked in triumph, "You just got-"

Then the shotgun fired and the barrels exploded in a burst of flame.

"Oh dang it, I messed up my one-liner," Sarge groaned as Grif drove off towards the Blue Base.

 **XXX**

Meanwhile, Simmons finished his work on the scanner and looked up to see the Meta was still staring into the valley, "Ok now's our chance, Doc! Hit him with an overcharge. It should overload at least one of his systems."

Doc looked nervous, "Um, you do it."

"What, me?" Simmons cried, "I don't even know how to fire that thing."

"Just pull the trigger and let go," Doc instructed, "It's super easy."

"No, no, no, you're trained with it," Simmons insisted, pressing the scanner into Doc's hands, "You do it. Go!"

Doc raised the scanner but then gulped in fear, "What if I miss? What if it doesn't do anything but make him mad? I already made him mad once and that really didn't work out really well."

"Well, then we'll improvise," Simmons muttered.

"Yeah, I don't feel very comfortable with that answer," Doc whimpered.

Suddenly there was the sound of an explosion and Doc looked up to see a plume of smoke billowing from behind the Red Base, "What the heck was that?"

"Uh-oh," Rhode mumbled.

"Uh-oh," Simmons gulped, "I just have a bad feeling that someone just caused him trouble."

The Meta watched the smoke for a while then turned on his prisoners with an angry growl.

"Oh no!" Simmons yelped, ducking his head down, "Improvise, improvise!"

With a squeak of terror, Doc closed his eyes as he raised the scanner and squeezed the trigger...

 **XXX**

 **Man, this was longer than I planned... Time to see if Simmons' plan worked. Till next time guys!**


	13. Chapter 12: Recovering One

**Chapter 12: Recovering One**

Rhode watched in amazement as a blast of green energy shot out from the scanner and hit the Meta square on the chest, sending him and his brute shot flying backwards against the wall. At the same time, a small spark burnt through Doc's ropes, freeing his wrists.

With an angry growl, the Meta got to his feet, his armor sparking with green electricity, and charged at Doc again. The medic yelped and covered his head as the Meta raised his fist... but then suddenly the rogue Freelancer froze mid-punch like someone had hit the pause button.

"Am I dead?" Doc squeaked, "Am I dead?"

Simmons got to his feet and let out a laugh of disbelief, "Doc, you did it!"

Doc lifted his head and stared in amazement, "He's frozen."

"No, it looks like you overloaded his time distortion unit," Simmons stepped up to the brute shot and used its blade to cut through his bonds, "You must have caused some kind of inversion. Instead of making everything else slow, it made _him_ slow."

"Oh yeah!" Doc cheered, "Score one for the pacifist! How do you like me now, Meta?"

Simmons grabbed his weapons and his and Doc's helmet then realised the medic was still staring at the slow-moving Meta, "Um Doc, I wouldn't get too close to him if I were you."

"Why?" Doc scoffed, taking his helmet back, "What's he gonna do, beat me up over the course of the next two weeks?"

"Well, technically he's not actually moving slower, he's moving at the same speed just over a longer period of time."

Doc frowned, "Huh?"

"It's relativistic," Simmons explained, "His fist still travels at the same velocity; we just view it from a faster timeframe. Therefore, it looks slowed down, but theoretically it should still carry the same force."

Doc glanced at the Meta's fist now inches from his face then chuckled, "Nah, see? It's moving slower."

At that moment, the Meta's fist made impact with Doc's face. In his slowed-down state, it looked like he was just brushing Doc's cheek with his knuckles; however Doc was suddenly thrown backwards like he'd been hit by a charging rhino.

"WHOOOOOAAAAA!!!" he screamed as he flew before crashing right into the wall.

Simmons and Rhode both flinched as he made impact then he looked up to see Doc embedded into the wall in a pose to rival Han Solo's frozen in carbonite scene, "Ow..."

"See?" Simmons scolded, "That's what you get for arguing with science. Stupid..."

"Good job," Rhode complimented, jumping next to them, "But we better hurry. Something tells me it's not gonna last long."

"You've been watching?!" Simmons cried hysterically, "Why didn't you do anything?!"

"I was waiting for the right moment," Rhode explained, "This seemed like a good time."

Doc struggled to pull himself free, but only his head and lower arms came loose, "Simmons, Rhode, get me outta this wall."

Simmons stepped forward and checked the medic over, "Hmmm, how do we do this?"

He and Rhode grabbed Doc's chest, braced their feet on the wall and tugged with all their might.

"You're not pulling from my center," Doc groaned.

"From the center? What the crap is the center?" Rhode grunted.

"Get down and pull from the groin."

They tried that but that didn't work either so Simmons placed one hand behind Doc's head and the other on his arm, braced both feet on the wall and pulled really hard, but try as they might, they just couldn't get Doc free.

"It feels like you're saving your strength," Doc yelled, "Don't save your strength."

Then he gulped and pointed out, "Hurry guys, I think the big guy's speeding back up!"

They both spun round and quickly saw that Doc was right.

The Meta was turning towards his brute shot and he was definitely moving slightly faster than snail's pace, "Oh crap..."

"Simmons, where are you?" Sarge called up as he and Grif drove up to the Base, "Come out here!"

"I'm here!" Simmons called out, "Hold on a second!"

"That's my cue to leave," Rhode said nervously as the Meta got closer to his brute shot, "I'm gone!"

And Rhode jumped off the roof and ran towards Red Base.

Simmons put his helmet back on then turned back to the trapped medic, "Doc, it looks like I can't get you out."

"Yes you can!" Doc shouted, "You haven't really tried yet!"

"I know," Simmons sighed, patting the medic's chest, "You're right, I should think about the mission."

"What? No!" Doc cried, "Not unless this is a rescue mission; I'm part of the mission!"

Simmons nodded grimly and placed the medic's helmet down by the wall, "It's a noble sacrifice you're making here."

"No, no, I'm not sacrificing," Doc pleaded, "I'm not noble, at all. Listen to me, you don't wanna go. I don't want you to go!"

But Simmons just ran off toward the outer wall, "I'll always remember you, bye!"

"Start by remembering me right now!" Doc yelled, "Simmons!"

By then, the Meta had recovered his brute shot and was now moving at normal speed. With a growl, he raised his gun and pointed it at Simmons as the Red climbed onto the wall.

"Hurry it up!" Sarge called out as the Warthog drew up to the Base.

Just as the Meta fired an RPG, Simmons leapt off the wall with a scream and, just as the Warthog drove past, he grabbed onto the barrel of the turret but his momentum sent it spiraling around several times before ending up pointing back towards the Base.

"Simmons, stop showing off and get in already!" Sarge bellowed.

"This isn't on purpose!" Simmons yelped.

On the Base's upper level, the Meta fired more RPGs at the retreating Reds. As the jeep hit a bump, Simmons lost his grip on the turret and ended up hanging from its back bumper, scraping along the ground.

"No, wait, wait, wait!" he yelled out, "Guys, guys, just slow down a little, why don't you-"

But then the Warthog entered the river and Simmons' yells were replaced by terrified gurgling.

"What did he say?" Sarge asked as they drove out.

The Meta let out an angry roar then he ran into the grav-lift and was catapulted into the valley.

"Grif, incoming!" Sarge yelled.

"Don't worry," Grif reassured, "We'll just do what we did last time."

But as the Meta neared the ground, he performed a half-twist somersault and landed right on the Warthog's front, crushing the bonnet, catapulting Sarge and Grif out of their seats and sending the jeep flipping up into the air, all at the same time.

As the jeep tumbled, Simmons clung onto the bumper for dear life, "I'm scared to hold on, but I'm too scared to let go!"

Then just before the jeep hit the ground, the Meta raised his brute shot and fired, sending it barreling towards the other Reds.

"Look out!" Grif grabbed Sarge and pulled him aside, seconds before the burning Warthog smashed into a large boulder.

The bumper Simmons held onto came off sending the Red sprawling and one of the tires bounced away from the wreck and rolled right over Grif, "Ow."

"That was the worst driving of all time," Sarge grunted, struggling to his feet.

"Because that wasn't driving!" Grif retorted, "That was flying and burning!"

"Touché," Sarge conceded.

Simmons then came stumbling dizzily towards them, still holding the bumper.

"Whoa-oh, what happened, where am I?" he moaned before collapsing to the ground in a faint.

The Meta let out a growl and approached the dazed Reds.

"Get ready," Sarge snarled, whipping out his shotgun, "Remember, he can't kill all of us."

"Why can't he kill all of us?" Grif asked.

Sarge frowned. "Hmm, that's a good point."

Simmons then sat up and shook his head to clear the dizziness, "Hey, I'm okay."

The Meta lifted his brute shot and took aim.

"Get ready," Sarge hissed.

"This is not going to be good," Grif whimpered.

Just then Ball Monitor Epsilon came floating up to them, "Hey guys, what's going on?"

He looked around and noticed the burning Warthog, "Man, your jeep got jacked up!"

Then he turned and spotted the Meta, "Who's the big dude? Sup, Gigantor?"

The Meta let out a hiss and took a swing at Epsilon who quickly ducked out the way, "Whoa! You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"What're you doing here?" Grif cried.

"Who cares," Sarge cut in, "Just lead him out of here!"

"Where?" Epsilon asked.

"Anywhere that's not here," Sarge replied.

Epsilon nodded and set off into the valley, "Hey, come on big boy, follow me! Look how shiny I am."

With an angry growl, the Meta set off after the monitor.

Come on!" Sarge yelled, dashing off towards the wall.

"What the crap was that floating thing?" Simmons asked as Grif helped him to his feet.

"We'll explain later, run!" Grif replied as they set off after Sarge.

Meanwhile Epsilon made his way towards the Blue Base, goading the Meta to follow him, "Come on, big boy! Come this way. Wait a minute, I know this place."

He floated up to the main entrance and peered around, "Hello? Somebody in there?"

Just then the Meta caught up and tried to grab him again.

"Oh crap!" Epsilon yelped, floating just out of reach, "You scared the crap outta me."

By then the Reds had made to the wall.

"Quick, everyone, through the hole!" Sarge called out, "Just sayin' that makes me miss Donut."

Grif helped Simmons climb through the hole then followed him out and they saw Rhode, "Sup guys."

"What are we gonna do?" Grif asked, "We can't outrun him and our jeep is destroyed."

"We have to seal the opening," Sarge replied.

"Do we have any grenades?" Simmons asked.

"Negative," Sarge sighed, "We need a plan of action."

Just then Epsilon floated through the hole, "Hey, I know he's a friend of yours, but I gotta tell you, that guy with the shiny head is kind of a jerk."

"What is that?" Rhode asked, staring at Epsilon.

"Well if you're here, then where's the-" Simmons broke off with a gasp as his question was answered, "Oh no, there's the Meta! Come on, we have to hurry!"

"I have an idea." Grif then glared at Epsilon, "Hey, you, moron!"

"You talking to me?" the AI asked.

"Yeah, you," Grif retorted, "This is all your fault, you stupid piece of junk. You got us in this mess."

"Me? It was your friend we had to rescue."

"Ah bullcrap, now the Meta's coming up here and he's gonna kill all of us, starting with you."

"What are you doing?" Sarge asked then he noticed Grif winking behind his visor and smiled, "Oh I get it."

"I don't!" Rhode exclaimed, "What's going on?!"

"I wasn't even looking for you guys," Epsilon shouted, "I was trying to find-"

"Oh, can it, you overgrown ornament!" Sarge cut in.

"Oh, now you wanna start?" Epsilon retorted.

"Hey, I'm not done with you yet, ball bearing," Grif yelled.

"That's rude."

"Your mother takes it in the exhaust port!" Sarge cried.

Grif turned to Rhode and his teammate, "Come on, guys, help us."

"I don't even know what you're doing," Simmons said puzzled.

"Me neither," Rhode agreed.

"Your mother gets paddled like a pinball!" Sarge shouted.

"Hey, let's leave mothers outta this!" Epsilon snapped.

"We're trying to increase the stress level," Grif explained.

"We need some insults," Sarge added.

"Um, okay." Simmons cleared his throat then yelled, "Grif, you're so fat, you broke your arm and gravy came out. Sarge, I find a lot of your tactical decisions to be questionable if not downright mediocre."

"Not insults for us, Simmons, for him!" Sarge snapped.

"I don't understand the rules of your stupid game," Simmons wailed, "I just got here!"

"Ah, you guys are idiots," Epsilon sighed.

"Get used to it," Rhode said.

"This isn't working," Grif muttered, "We need something to make him mad, really mad."

"Has he seen the last episode of The Sopranos yet?" Simmons suggested.

A growl behind them made Epsilon turn round and he spotted two figures approaching the hole, "Uh oh, look out, it's the big guy!"

His eye narrowed slightly, "And there's-"

"Get them, Meta!" the second figure called out, "Get them!"

"WASHINGTON!!!" Suddenly Epsilon's eye glowed bright red and a laser beam shot out and blasted around the hole, causing the wall to collapse over the hole and blocking the way for Washington and the Meta.

As the dust settled, Epsilon blinked and stared at the blockage, "What? No, open it up! I have to go back!"

"Go back?" Sarge spluttered, "Son, are you crazy? After what we just went through to get outta there?"

"No, he'll find her!" Epsilon breathed, "Don't you understand? I can't let them... get to her... first..."

Then his eye faded to black and he fell to the ground with a clatter. Rhode stared at him and back at the collapsed walk.

"What is going on?!?!" He said, more confused than ever.

"Wow, I guess he ran out of juice," Grif said.

"He's had a hard day, let him sleep it off," Sarge murmured. "Load him up, let's hit the road."

Grif knelt down, picked up the monitor and set off after Sarge.

"So what is this thing, some kinda pet?" Simmons asked.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," Grif replied, "Come on, I'll fill you two in."

 **XXX**

On the other side of the wall, the Meta let out an angry growl and slammed his fist into the debris.

"Don't worry," Wash reassured, "We'll find them again. We just need some leads."

He turned towards the Blue Base, "And I know exactly who to ask."

 **XXX**

At that moment, Doc was still struggling in vain to get out of the wall.

"Hey guys? A little help here," he called out, "Hello? Jerks..."

 **XXX**

 **Poor Doc. Regular medic to prisoner of war in just a few hours. Till next time guys!**


	14. Chapter 13: Fourth and Twenty

**Chapter 13: Fourth and Twenty**

"Go away, bad aliens!" Caboose shouted.

At Sandtrap, the Blues had been chased around the ruins by the angry aliens. But Tucker managed to convince the aliens that Caboose had been in charge of keeping an eye on their god Epsilon so it was his fault that he was gone. So now Caboose had climbed onto a rocky pillar out of reach of the aliens.

"Shoo, aliens, shoo!" he bellowed, "Rolled-up newspaper!"

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you lost their all-powerful deity," Tucker jeered from the sidelines.

"I didn't lose him," Caboose retorted, "He left, or maybe he lost himself, or maybe the Reds took him, I don't- OW!"

He yelped as a dart hit him in the leg, "Stop that!"

"Well, until the Reds come back, they need somebody to blame," Tucker shrugged, "Better you than me, man."

Caboose ducked to avoid a grenade thrown at him by Smith, the alien leader, "Tucker, help me."

"Yeah, dude, I don't know. I don't really wanna get in between an angry mob and their religious iconography. And I should know. I used to date an Italian girl."

"But he's not really gone," Caboose called, "It's all made up. You know that."

The aliens turned towards with growls of confusion.

"Whoa dude, I don't know anything," Tucker muttered, backing slowly away, "That sounds like straight up blasphemy. You guys gonna put up with this stuff?"

"Blarg," Smith grunted.

"I know dude," Tucker chuckled, "That's what I'm saying. You took the blarg right out of my mouth."

One alien pounced up and tried to grab Caboose but just fell short, "Tucker, they're going to eat me!"

"Caboose, shut up," Tucker snapped, "They're not gonna eat you, they're just gonna prosecute you and kill you, stop being such a baby."

Caboose then looked up and spotted four figures approaching the ruins, "Look, the Reds, they're back. And they have your worshippy guy."

"What?" Tucker looked round and saw Sarge climbing up the dune behind the aliens.

"Hey Blue," Sarge called out, "We're back and we got Simmons and Rhode too. Where's the water can? Oh also, you got any spare jeeps around here? I don't wanna get into it but we've identified a tactical weakness in the hood of the current models."

He then looked up and saw the aliens gathered around the spire, "Oh, uh what're you guys doing? Killing Caboose? That's cool."

"There he is!" Caboose yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Sarge, "He is the one who took Church! Get him!"

With angry growls, the aliens turned and glowered at Sarge who took a step back and gulped in fright, suddenly feeling like Scooby-Doo surrounded by a horde of monsters, "Ruh-roh..."

 **XXX**

Meanwhile at the campsite, Simmons did a quick examination of Epsilon while Grif went to get some water.

"How's Floaty McGee?" he asked, handing a cup to his teammate.

"Eh, you know, same old, still not working," Simmons lifted his helmet off and drained the cup in one gulp.

"Is he dead?" Rhode asked.

"How would I know? And even if he was, would it make a difference with this guy?"

"Meh, prob'ly not," Grif admitted.

Simmons sighed as he lifted Epsilon and gave him a shake, "Now we've got sand in all his ports. How am I supposed to fix him in an environment like this?"

"Sounds like you have sand in all your ports," Grif jeered.

"Why did we even come here?" Rhode moaned, "It's a freaking desert."

"I don't know," Grif muttered, "This is where we were before we came to get you two. And where else can we go anyway? There are bad guys at our base and Sarge never wants to get far away from the Blues."

He glanced over his shoulder, "I don't know if you've noticed this, guys, but he's a little obsessed. He still wants to get 'em back in the database so we can kill 'em. How's that goin' by the way, any progress?"

Simmons looked confused, "Progress?"

"It's your project."

"I was held captive!"

"Whatever, dude. If Sarge takes that as an excuse for not getting work done, let me know. I'll get captured all the time."

Just then, they heard Sarge's voice coming from round the corner, "Nope, they're right around this corner up here, Grif, Rhode, and Simmons, right up here, where I'm walking."

"Uh oh, here he comes," Grif sniggered, snatching Epsilon from his teammate, "You're about to get busted."

"And you'll see when we get around this corner up here we don't have any kind of floating device; no balls or spheres or anything."

Rhode frowned, "Who's he talking to?"

"You'll see, big group of aliens," Sarge said as if he'd heard him, "We don't have anything like that at all."

"What?" Grif gasped, "Uh oh..."

Just then Epsilon groaned and his eye began to flicker, "What? Where am I?"

"Sshhh, dude, shut up," Grif hissed, "Be quiet."

Epsilon glanced around, "No, what-"

"Shut your hole."

"What's happening? How did I get here?"

"Oh crap!" Grif looked around in panic then he held Epsilon out at arms' length and tilted one leg back.

Epsilon glared at him, "Don't you do it, you j-"

But then Grif let go of the monitor and swung his leg out, punting him like a football high into the air and over the Elephant freighter, "-ERRRRRRRRRKKK!!!"

"What are you doing?" Rhode cried.

"Shut up, man, and be cool," Grif hissed as he turned round.

"Be cool?" Simmons asked.

But then Sarge came around the corner followed by seven big angry aliens.

"Whoa!" Simmons gasped then he cleared his throat and leant on Grif's shoulder, "I mean, what's the four-one-one, daddy-o's? Me and my homey were just hangin' all up in here. Deserts-ville, 's'all good, you know what I'm sayin', scrillas?"

"What the crap are you doing?" Grif hissed out the corner of his mouth.

"You told me to be cool," Simmons replied.

"Right, so what the crap are you doing?"

"As you can see, we don't have your stupid rolley baloney," Sarge told the aliens in reassurance, "It's just this yellow guy, green guy, and M.C. Fonzerella over here."

"Whatevs, y'all," Simmons drawled, giving a two-fingered salute, "You don't know me."

Rhode just face-palmed.

Just then Tucker and Caboose came running round the corner.

"Aha, gotcha!" Tucker cried out triumphantly, "See, I knew they would have it."

"Uh, I don't see him." Caboose then gasped. "Oh my God, he's invisible. And he was replaced by Rhode!"

Tucker glanced around but could find no sign of Epsilon, "Alright Reds, what did you do with-"

He looked up in time to see the Reds fleeing towards the freighter.

"Book it, quadruple-time!" Sarge yelled.

"...it," Tucker sighed. "Dang it! I should have seen that coming. Well, Caboose, I guess we're on our-"

He turned to see Caboose and Rhode making a break for it too. "...own. Dang it."

"Run away!" Caboose yelled.

"Move it or lose it!" Rhode yelled.

Tucker then looked round and saw the aliens growling angrily at him, "Alright, I'll just go get on top of the pillar."

 **XXX**

Meanwhile, Grif ran up to the top of the dune behind the freighter and spotted Epsilon in the middle of a field surrounded by blinking yellow lights, "Uh oh..."

"Grif, what are you stopping for- Ah, nuts, "Sarge screeched to a halt just by the edge of the lights.

"What?" Simmons said. "There he is."

Caboose and Rhode came up from behind and stopped too.

"Oh no, he landed in the middle of the-" Caboose stopped as he noticed Simmons, "Uh, of the there, the over there."

"So, let's get him," Simmons said.

Grif then gave an evil smile, "Yeah, tell you what, Simmons, why don't you go get him?"

"We'll secure the area here while you retrieve," Sarge agreed.

"Okay," Simmons sighed, "I don't have time for this."

With that, he stepped into the field... and immediately onto a hidden mine.

"OW!" he yelped as he was blown back out again.

He then sat up and glared at Caboose and the other Reds, "You knew, didn't you?"

"Yeah, kinda," Caboose replied before he, Grif, Rhode, and Sarge burst out laughing.

 **XXX**

 **Making fun of Simmons is fun... Till next time guys!**


	15. Chapter 14: Towing Package

**Chapter 14: Towing Package**

Simmons went aboard the freighter, printed out the guide through the minefield and used it to guide himself, Grif, Sarge and Caboose safely to Epsilon.

As they reached the monitor, Sarge let out a chuckle, "Well, it seems like all the kicking and blowing up put some life back into the little guy. That's adorable."

Grif frowned, "Why are all his blue parts green?"

"I don't know," Caboose muttered, lifting Epsilon out of the sand.

As he looked him over, Epsilon glanced at him with his glowing green eye and spoke in a gentle electronic voice, "Caboose, is that you?"

Caboose almost dropped the monitor in surprise, "Delta?"

"Caboose, I need you to listen," Delta's voice replied, "My time is brief. Epsilon is not in control right now. But he will be again, shortly."

"Great!" Caboose beamed.

"Perhaps not. The encounter with Agent Washington has jarred loose many of his memories. Epsilon has not historically coped with these memories well."

"What does that mean?" Rhode asked puzzled.

"We fear he may pursue certain memories in particular."

"Who is 'we'?"

"Myself and the other memories of the Alpha fragments."

Grif raised an eyebrow, "What the crap is that? Who the crap are you? And what the crap is happening?"

Delta ignored him and looked back at Caboose, "Epsilon may not yet be aware of our presence, but eventually he will be. We cannot hide forever. It is likely at this point he will begin the cycle again. That must not happen."

"What cycle?" Caboose then gasped, "A motorcycle? A secret motorcycle! It's okay you can tell me."

Delta rolled his eye, "He's begun to search his memories now; he is clearly looking for something."

"Well, you always did say memory is the key," Caboose recalled.

"Memory is the key, Caboose," Delta confirmed, "But not everything that is locked is meant to be unlocked."

His eye then began to flicker, "He is coming back now. I must leave before he discovers me."

Caboose frowned in disappointment, "But if he meets you in there, then you can be friends, but not best friends 'cause that job's taken, but you know, maybe acquaintances?"

Delta let out a rueful sigh, "If only I were the memory that he's looking for..."

Then the green light faded and was replaced by a sapphire blue light as Epsilon returned, "What? Oh, hey, I must've uh, passed out. Sorry about that."

"Church, you're back!" Caboose cried.

"Yeah, I am," Epsilon muttered, floating out of his friend's arms, "Hey Caboose, come over here, would ya? I need to talk to you about something."

"Okay, where are we going?" Caboose asked, following Epsilon out of the minefield.

Simmons watched them go then he turned to his teammates, "Hey guys, do you ever notice Blue team has, like a lot more stuff going on than us?"

"Yeah, boring stuff," Sarge replied.

"Nerdy stuff," Grif added.

"Pretty much," Rhode agreed.

"Yeah," Simmons agreed, "But I mean all we ever talk about is food and guns."

"That reminds me, I'm hungry," Grif muttered, patting his stomach.

"Stop complaining or I'll shoot ya in the head," Sarge growled, lifting his shotgun.

Simmons sighed and bowed his head, "Good times..."

 **XXX**

Nearby Epsilon led Caboose through the ruins, past the pillar where Tucker was still being harassed by the angry aliens - "Stay away, don't touch me!" - and up to the campsite.

Once alone, Epsilon turned to his blue buddy, "Hey uh Caboose, you were the one who moved me from the Epsilon unit to this new body, right?"

"Oh yeah," Caboose replied, "I am really good at ergonomics."

Epsilon frowned, "Uh, do you mean electronics?"

"Yeah, probably," Caboose replied with a shrug.

"Okay good." Epsilon nodded, "Then I need you to come with me. I just remembered something, something that could help me."

"Sure!"

"You don't wanna know the details?"

"Nope."

"It could be dangerous."

"Yeah, I have armor. It's blue."

"Alright, well, let's go then," Epsilon said, "I actually thought it would take longer to convince you. Come on. I wanna get to the facility before nightfall."

Caboose nodded and boarded a nearby Mongoose.

As he revved the engine, he then spotted the storage capsule that once housed Epsilon, "Uh, you wanna bring the Epsilon unit?"

"Is it necessary to... do your thing?" Epsilon asked.

"I don't think so," Caboose murmured.

"Then who cares, leave it," Epsilon said, setting off into the desert, "Where we're going, we won't need it."

Caboose glanced at the unit once last time then he drove off after Epsilon.

Rhode, meanwhile, had listened to everything from behind a pillar. He walked out and looked at the two retreating figures.

"That doesn't seem good..."

 **XXX**

 **Rather short chapter, but whatever. Till next time guys!**


	16. Chapter 15: And Don't Call Me Shirley

**Chapter 15: And Don't Call Me Shirley**

Nearby, the Reds watched from the top of a dune as Epsilon led Caboose away from the ruins and Rhode followed.

"Come on," they heard the monitor say, "I wanna get to the facility before nightfall."

"Facility, eh?" Sarge murmured, "I knew the Blues were up to something. Come on, men, let's get after those Blues! It sounds like this is the big opportunity we've been waiting for."

"You mean our opportunity to find a place to hole up until this all blows over?" Grif asked hopefully.

"Some place that isn't a desert?" Simmons added.

"No!" Sarge yelled, "A chance to finally restore the Blues to Command's database. Get yer typing fingers ready, Simmons!"

"Okay," Simmons sighed. "I'll bring my carpal tunnel braces."

Sarge looked down and watched Caboose follow Epsilon on a Mongoose, "If we're going to follow them, we'll need a vehicle."

"Well, I'm sure we can grab another one from the camp down there," Grif assumed.

"Why do we need a vehicle?" Simmons asked puzzled, "I'm sure we can keep up with the Blues on foot."

"On foot?!" Grif cried out.

"Uh Simmons, we're the Reds," Sarge said slowly, "We don't walk anywhere. We travel as the good Lord intended: in the largest possible vehicle with the maximum horsepower allowed by local law enforcement. And if there are no cars available, we find the biggest nastiest meanest land animal we possibly can, beat the crap out of it and saddle that puppy up."

"On foot," Grif retorted, shaking his head, "Shame on you, Simmons. Shame on you."

"Sorry," Simmons muttered.

"Let's just forget you ever mentioned it," Sarge said, leading his team down the dune towards the camp.

"I think this should go on his permanent record," Grif suggested.

"Oh, just go get the jeep," Simmons snapped.

 **XXX**

On the top of the spire, Tucker watched as the Reds climbed onto a Warthog and drove off into the desert, "Hey, where are you guys going? Wait!"

But the Reds didn't hear him, "Oh come on!"

He then glanced down at the aliens trying to grab him, "Hey guys, listen. I know you want your super-cool piece of technology back. Well, those guys just took off, probably to look for it. If you let me go, I can track it down for you and bring it back."

The aliens glanced at each other for a moment then raised their guns and shot at him, making him jump back, "No? Okay then, forget it."

Then he looked round and pointed out with a gasp, "Oh my God, look, a next gen Smartphone! Can you believe they'd leave that just laying around?"

The aliens spun round to see and Tucker took this opportunity to leap off the spire and run towards his parked Chopper.

"Fooled by the old prototype trick, classic," he muttered as he revved his engine.

As he drove, the aliens turned back and let out angry growls.

"Well, see ya, morons, I'm outta here!" Tucker jeered... just before the bike let out a splutter and came to a stop, "What the- out of gas? Hey uh, you guys have any gas?"

The aliens raised their guns at him again.

Tucker gulped as he jumped off his Chopper, "You know what? Forget it, I'm just gonna run."

So he did.

 **XXX**

Meanwhile, Epsilon led Caboose across the desert then through a deep jungle until they reached a great ruined complex half-hidden by vines and creepers, "Alright, I think this is it."

"This?" Caboose asked, dismounting the Mongoose, "This doesn't look like anything."

"Yeah, it's not supposed to," Epsilon replied, "That's kinda the idea. Come on, this way."

He floated towards an overgrown archway.

"Man, you really need to clean this place up," Caboose muttered.

"Caboose!"

"Coming!" the Blue yelped, following Epsilon.

They wandered around the complex for a few minutes then Epsilon turned toward a passageway, "Oh yeah, here we go. It's this way."

"My this way or your this way?' Caboose asked.

"There is no- it's the same this way," Epsilon retorted.

They followed the passageway down until they entered a large clearing surrounded by huge walls and a single tree planted in the middle.

"Okay, yeah," Epsilon muttered, glancing to his left, "This is it, I think."

Caboose looked too and frowned, "It's a wall. We came all this way for a wall?"

"Caboose!"

"Sorry," Caboose muttered, "It's a really great wall."

"Hello," a voice called out.

Caboose and Epsilon turned round to see a screen built into the tree. The letters F.I.L.S.S shone on the top of the screen and by some smaller screens showing complex writing, a bluish orb flashed at them.

"This is a private facility," the voice continued, "Visitors are not welcome. Please leave immediately, or we will be forced to take lethal measures to ensure the safety of our property."

"That's great," Caboose muttered.

"You have thirty seconds to comply, or die," the voice finished, "Have a nice day."

On one of the smaller screens, a timer started counting down the seconds. 28... 27... 26...

"Sheila, is that you?" Caboose breathed.

"No," the voice replied, "I am the Freelancer Integrated Logistics and Security System. You may call me FILSS. It is a pleasure to meet you. You now have fifteen seconds to live."

"Whoa," Epsilon gulped, "Dying sounds like a bad idea. Maybe we should leave."

"Oh my, the Director," FILSS gasped and the timer faded, "I am so sorry. I did not recognize you, Sir. It has been such a long time since you have visited. You look very different."

Rhode raised an eyebrow when he heard this. What the heck was this about?

Epsilon glanced at Caboose then looked back, "Are you talking to me?"

"Yes," FILSS replied, "You are the Director of Project Freelancer, are you?"

"Oh uh, yeah," Epsilon stammered, "Of course that's... totally me. I just haven't been around because I've been doing, you know... director stuff, can't really get into it, secret project."

"How may I assist you today?"

"Can we, uh... Can we come in?"

"Certainly, "Then there was a loud scraping noise and Caboose and Epsilon turned to see a door sliding open in the wall, revealing a long dark chamber, "Please watch your step."

"Kinda spooky in there," Caboose muttered.

"Yeah," Epsilon agreed, "Why don't you go first?"

"Me?"

"Well, I mean, you're the one with the gun and everything."

"Yeah, but the tree seemed to like you best, "Caboose turned back to the screen, "Uh hey Sheila, could you-"

"Are you speaking to me?" FILSS asked puzzled.

"We're just kinda used to calling you by that name," Epsilon explained quickly, "Um, maybe you should just answer him when he calls you that. It's probably easier for you to change than it is for him. He's kinda dumb."

"Alright," FILSS replied, "I will respond to that name as well. You are the Director after all."

Epsilon nodded simply. "Right. I am."

 **XXX**

 **I know that Alpha/Church was created after the Director, but they sound nothing alike! Get it together FILSS! Till next time guys!**


	17. Chapter 16: Perusing the Archive

**Chapter 16: Perusing the Archive**

The door closed when Epsilon and Caboose walked in. Rhode walked into the clearing and FILSS began to glow again.

"Another life form approaching," she said, "State your name and why you are here or leave."

"FILSS, this is Agent Rhode Island of Project Freelancer," Rhode said, "May you please let me in?"

"I'm sorry," FILSS replied, "That name is in my database, but it is labeled as 'deceased'. You cannot be Agent Rhode Island."

"Then do facial recognition or something. Just verify that it's me."

"Affirmative."

Then and antenna popped out of the top of the screen. Rhode removed his helmet as the antenna released a wave of blue that covered his face.

When the blue light disappeared, FILSS let out a gasp, "Oh! Agent Rhode. I apologize, I did not know that you were still alive."

"Yeah..." Rhode said, rubbing the back of his head, "It's a long story."

"Well then, welcome! It is good to see you again. When you supposedly died, some of the other agents were very upset."

"Yeah, I figured that."

"But Agent Carolina was the most upset," FILSS continued, making Rhode freeze.

"Wait... Really?"

"Yes. Though I don't know if it was because of your death, or Agent Texas taking the number one spot on the Leaderboard, or both."

"How do you know this?" Rhode asked.

"My job is to observe and document. That day was also the only day Carolina released a journal entry. Would you like to see it?"

Rhode thought about it. Of course he wanted to see it, but he was a bit reluctant. Would it matter if he was invading her privacy if she was dead?

Rhode finally nodded, "Okay. Show me."

"Hey Blue!"

Rhode turned and saw the Reds coming up to them. FILSS blinked in warning.

"Are these friends of yours, Agent Rhode?" She asked.

"I guess you could say that. You guys want in?"

"Of course we do!" Sarge said.

"Then let them in FILSS," Rhode said.

"Certainly," FILSS replied.

The door opened and the Reds walked in. Rhode turned back to the screen.

"Now can you play the video?" He asked.

"Beginning playback."

A hologram of Carolina appeared. She appeared to be in a sitting position with her thumb and index finger on her eyes. She sniffed and Rhode was taken aback a little. Was she... crying?

"This is Agent Carolina of Project Freelancer," the recording said, "And I don't know what to do anymore."

She looked up and Rhode saw tear tracks on her cheeks. She was crying. That was new.

"Tex has replaced me at the top of the Leaderboard," she explained, "but that's not the most upsetting thing... Rhode... was killed. When me, York, and Wash got to the roof, we saw Tex placing a transmitter. When it went off, the Mother of Invention shot the building... Rhode was still in it, along with two of his teammates, Zona and Penny. This is all Texas' fault. If she hadn't shown up, Rhode would still be here! He was... my best friend... No, more than that... I can't explain it..."

She sighed, "This is Agent Carolina, signing off."

The recording stopped. Rhode stood there dumbfounded, suddenly feeling guilty about never trying to tell her he was alive. He had no idea she cared that much. She had called him more than a best friend. He thought the same when he learned she was dead. What did that mean?

'Does this mean,' he thought, 'That I li-'

His thought was interrupted by a sudden explosion and screams of pain from inside the compound.

"Aaaaaand lost my train of thought," Rhode said, "Might as well see what that was."

And he headed inside.

 **XXX**

When he arrived, he was in what appeared to be a storage room. He saw the Reds and Tucker off to the side with med packs in hand. Who he saw next surprised him. He saw a figure in black armor choking a figure in cobalt blue armor with the Epsilon ball.

"Ow! Ow! OW! Stop it!" Cobalt yelled in Church's voice, "Tex, you're embarrassing me!"

Rhode turned and saw Caboose in a little sound booth and headed over there. He walked in and saw FILSS on a screen.

"Hey, Caboose," he said, "What happened?"

"Tex showed up and beat up the Reds and Tucker," he explained, " _which was awesome_ , and is now beating up Church!"

"So how do we stop her?"

Caboose turned and said, "Uh, we have to do something."

"I am sorry," FILSS replied, "As I said, I cannot operate outside the bounds of my standard safety protocols."

Caboose glanced at the screen, "What if I said... pretty please?"

"Private Caboose, is there a reason why you don't want to use one of the standard safety protocols?" FILSS asked puzzled, "In this scenario, I would strongly recommend locking down the armor of any rogue unit."

Caboose gasped, "Wait, you can do that?"

"Of course. Armor lock is a standard safety feature since the Freelancer break-in."

"Well, why didn't you tell us that?"

"Why would I need to tell the Director that? He wrote the protocol himself."

"Oh right, yes of course he did," Caboose muttered sheepishly, "Um Sheila, could you do the armor lunchable thing that you said?"

"Certainly."

 **XXX**

In the storeroom, Epsilon was now on the floor but Tex was still pounding him when suddenly some loud chimes rang out through the speakers followed by FILSS' voice, "Now initiating standard safety protocol. Armor lockdown in progress. All units stand by for lockdown."

As Tex raised her fist again, she suddenly felt her armor stiffen up and she glanced round to see an electric field rippling over her suit of armor.

"What's happening?" Epsilon gasped, as she toppled off him, "Caboose, what did you do to her?"

"Yes, I did it!" Caboose cheered, "I am the biggest hero ever! I beat up the girl!"

As Tucker ran over to help his teammate, Sarge turned to his privates with a laugh, "Yes! See, that's how you do it, Grif. Face your enemy man to man, or in your case woefully inadequate man to woman, and then when she's distracted, use superior technology to take her out."

He then sniffed, "Reminds me of prom night..."

"We didn't do anything," Grif pointed out, "She shut down."

"I am the best!" Caboose yelled.

Simmons was still staring up at the speakers, "Uh, hey guys? What do you think that voice meant by 'all units'?"

Before Sarge could reply, he suddenly felt his armor stiffen and from the sounds of their cries, he guessed that the same was happening to Grif and Simmons, "AHHH! I can't move!"

"I did it, I-" Caboose stopped cheering as he spotted the Reds frozen in place, Simmons still looking at the ceiling, Sarge looking at Simmons and Grif still holding the med kit over his groin.

"Not my fault, I did not do this!" he yelped, "The computer made suggestions and the default option was yes!"

"Just shut up," Rhode said, his armor as stiff as a rock.

"Well, this is just great," Grif groaned through stiff lips.

As Tucker helped him sit up, Epsilon stared at the frozen Reds in horror, "What's happening? Caboose, make it stop! Make it st-OOOW!"

He and Tucker suddenly stiffened as the armor lock affected them too.

 **XXX**

In the control room, Caboose stared down at the motionless Reds and Blues, "Uh, Sheila, is my armor gonna lockdown too?"

"No, Caboose," FILSS replied, "Your helmet does not have that particular protocol installed in it. I had assumed that was the reason why you were wearing that-"

"Yes, that is totally the reason," Caboose cut in, secretly relieved that he had chosen the right armor upgrade.

What did Church know?

 **XXX**

 **Great job Caboose. Armor lock must suck. Till next time guys!**


	18. Chapter 17: Snooze Button

**Chapter 17: Snooze Button**

Epsilon got FILSS to turn off Tucker's Recovery Mode and was now helping his teal teammate onto his feet (He'd been kneeling when the lockdown occurred).

"Oh God, that sucked!" Tucker groaned, "What was all that glowing stuff?"

"Sheila put us in lockdown to save us," Epsilon replied.

"She knocked us out to save us?" Tucker muttered, "That makes sense."

"Hey, at least we're not getting our butts kicked today?" Epsilon pointed out, "That's an improvement."

"Yeah, that's a good point," Tucker conceded, "I can't argue with results."

They then went over to the rigid Reds and noted their positions, Simmons looking at the ceiling, Sarge looking at Simmons and Grif looking very stunned.

"Sheila, can they uh, can they hear me?" Epsilon asked.

"Affirmative," FILSS replied.

"She said yes," Caboose shouted through the speakers.

"We heard her, moron!" Tucker snapped.

"I know!" Caboose replied, "I just want to use the microphone. It makes me sound super loud! I'm not sure if you can tell."

"I can!" Rhode yelled, just getting out of armor lock, "Not in my ear dude! Geez."

Tucker then looked at Epsilon for a moment, "Hey, where'd you get the new body?"

"Long story, dude," Epsilon replied, "I'll tell you later."

"Man, I know I asked," Tucker sighed, "But I don't really give a crap, Church."

"Attention, Freelancer shoppers!" Caboose then shouted through the microphone, "We have a special on submachine guns in aisle seven!"

"FILSS, please mute him!" Rhode ordered.

"Affirmative," FILSS replied.

"This is Michael J Caboose signing-" He then realized that the mike was now switched off, "Aw, man!"

 **XXX**

When they got the Reds out, Simmons lowered his head down, Grif dropped the med kit to the floor and Sarge sighed and rubbed his neck, "Ahhh, my neck was killing me!"

Caboose and Rhode rejoined their teammates as they and the Reds stood around the incapacitated Tex.

"I'm waking her up," Epsilon decided.

"No way, buddy," Sarge retorted, "You must have missed the smash-fest we just went through. I ain't repeating that."

"Hey, we made a deal," Epsilon reminded him, "I unlock you; you have to help me with her."

"Hey, now hold on a second," Grif started.

"This affects the entire group," Simmons cut in, "I say we put it to a vote. All those in favor of waking her up and letting her kill us, say aye."

"Aye," Rhode said.

"Aye," Epsilon replied, "Caboose?"

"Present," Caboose said.

"No, we're not doing that. Just say aye."

"You. Oops, I mean me!"

"No, aye."

"Church."

"Just say aye!"

"Oh, I get it, right sorry. My left eye or my right eye?"

Epsilon sighed, "He votes yes."

"I would also like it noted that I was present," Caboose added.

"Okay," Sarge said, "And everyone in favor of not doing that thing and leaving her asleep and not getting killed by the person we're not going to wake up because nobody is that stupid, say nay."

"That was like a quadruple negative," Simmons noted.

"Just vote," Sarge ordered.

"Um, nay?"

"I didn't even understand the question," Grif muttered, "So I'm just gonna say blueberry."

"Screw it, veto, she comes out," Epsilon decided, stepping up to Tex, "So Sheila, is there any way to turn her only, you know partway back on?"

"No, I am sorry," FILSS replied, "I can either leave her in lock, or take her out of lock. There is no in between."

"So she's either completely asleep or full-on jerk," Tucker chuckled, "She sounds like my ex-wife."

"You were married?" Rhode asked.

"Ew, gross, I hope not," Tucker grimaced.

"Well, we have to do something," Epsilon murmured.

"Why do people always say that?" Grif cried, "'We have to do something.' We don't have to do anything. Let's just let sleeping maniacs lie."

"Here, let me try this." Epsilon then stepped out of his robot body, went up to Tex and jumped into her mind.

 **XXX**

A little bit later, Epsilon jumped out of Tex's body and reclaimed his robot self.

"What did she say?" Tucker asked.

"Okay, I think we got it worked out," Epsilon murmured.

"She cool?" Grif asked hopefully.

"As cool as she'll ever be," Epsilon replied.

"That does not inspire confidence in me," Rhode gulped.

"Wake her up, Sheila," Epsilon called out.

"Affirmative," FILSS replied.

As the electric field around Tex faded, Simmons pushed his teammates away, "Back up, back up."

"Ending Recovery Mode, all units," FILSS announced.

Just then, Tex let out a groan and sat up.

"Uh, how're you feeling?" Epsilon asked.

In reply, Tex leapt to her feet, ran up to Tucker and punched him right in the face, "OW!"

"Better now," she told Epsilon.

"What the crap!?" Tucker yelled as he sat up.

"Oh right," Epsilon muttered sheepishly, "I forgot to mention one thing."

What the Reds and Blues didn't know was that FILSS' announcement didn't just affect Tex...

 **XXX**

...For some distance away, outside the Blue Base at Valhalla, a Spartan-II in bright pink armor suddenly stirred and sat up with a groan, "What happened? Who shot me? What a jerk!"

He then looked down and let out an angry sigh, "Ah man, I got blood over my good shoes! These stains are never gonna come out."

 **XXX**

 **Might as well add that last part in to tell you Donut's still alive. Till next time guys!**


	19. Chapter 18: Reconfiguration

**Chapter 18: Reconfiguration**

A while later, Epsilon made his way over to where Tex was sitting on a small crate, her black helmet by her side, "So you back up to a hundred percent yet?"

"Yeah," Tex said, "And whatever I didn't learn from Caboose, I've been able to pick up from the rest of the guys. It didn't take long."

"Yeah, we really don't seem to do much," Epsilon sighed.

"Maybe you should get a hobby, like knitting."

"We'll look into it."

"Hey, how did you know how to bring me back?"

"Honestly I didn't have much choice," Epsilon admitted with a shrug, "I couldn't get you outta my head so I kind of... had to... get you... outta my head."

"Wow, how emo," Tex muttered, "Maybe you can blog about it."

"Hey, you asked."

Tex then glanced up at the speakers, running a hand through her short red hair, "When I was beating the crap out of the Reds, the alarm said it was 'Level Alpha.' Do you know why?"

"You know, I didn't think about that."

"Then I want you to have Sheila give me access to the files here."

"Why?"

"Because I'm gonna figure out exactly what they did to me here," Tex replied grimly, "I need to know who I am."

Epsilon placed a hand on her shoulder, "I know who you are. You're my girlfriend."

"Well, that's probably the most underwhelming description of all time," Tex snorted.

"Hey, lots of ladies would be happy to be my girlfriend," Epsilon snapped.

"What other women do you even know?" Tex retorted.

"Um, I, uh, well there's uh..." Epsilon scratched his head in thought, "Uh... Oh, Grif had a sister, she seemed to like me."

"I wouldn't be too proud of that," Tex scoffed, "She was pretty easy."

"How do you know she was easy, Tex?" Tucker called out, poking his head round the corner, "You know what, never mind, don't tell me. It's better in my head. Bow chicka bow wow!"

"Where did you even come from?" Epsilon cried.

"I'm always close by," Tucker replied.

Tex raised her battle rifle at the Blue, "Hey, can I kill him?"

"You can hurt him," Epsilon replied, "Kill him later."

"Hmm, that actually sounds more fun," Tex agreed.

"Man, I though the old Church was whipped, but you're really taking it to a whole new level," Tucker muttered, as he ducked out.

"Why do you even put up with him?" Tex sighed.

"It's not so bad," Epsilon replied, "I mean, I admit sometimes it gets pretty hard and I really don't know how to handle it."

"And, now I'm back," Tucker said, peeking round again.

"Come on," Epsilon said, "Let's get in there."

 **XXX**

Nearby the Reds watched as Epsilon and Tex set off down the passage.

"Simmons, this is our chance," Sarge exclaimed, "Get in the computer and start entering the Blues back in the database."

"Yes Sir," Simmons replied, "Come on, Grif. I need your help."

"My help?" Grif cried, "With a computer? Simmons, you must have me confused with someone who can... help you with... the computer."

"Kinda lost your train of thought on that one," Sarge muttered.

"Yeah, a little bit," Grif agreed.

"Following the Blues is one thing," Simmons explained, "If I'm entering all these names and records, I need someone to hold up the papers for me."

"Uh, sorry dude," Grif replied, folding his arms, "Paper holder's not in my job description."

"No, but I'm gonna be working in the personnel files," Simmons pointed out, "So I can add it to your job description. In fact, I can make your job whatever you want."

He gave an evil smile, "How does 'Chief Executive Butt Taster' sound?"

"You can't do that!" Grif yelled.

"I can't? I thought you didn't understand how computers work," Simmons set off down the passage, calling over his shoulder, "In fact, while I'm there, why don't I just make you a woman? It's just a checkbox and we could always use a little more diversity in our team. I know Tucker will be happy."

Grif let out a snort, "Make me a woman, yeah right. Like changing a form would actually turn me into a woman. I mean that's just..."

He trailed off as he glanced at his bruised genitals, "How stupid does he think I... I-I better go help him."

"Good call, numbnuts," Sarge chuckled as he watched Grif run off after Simmons.

 **XXX**

Back with Tex, Rhode walked up and said, "So... What's up?"

"What do you want?" Tex asked.

"Can't I just have a conversation?" Rhode replied, "...Okay, you're right. I learned that you were the one who set the transmitter on the skyscraper. Then the blast nearly killed me. Any explanation why you tried to kill me?"

"I was just following orders," Tex shrugged, "I didn't know you were in there until the mission was over."

"How did Carolina react?"

"I could tell she was holding back so many insults for me. She did occasionally straight out yell at me, blaming me for killing you. You two were really close, weren't you?"

Rhode sighed, "Yeah, I guess we were."

"...Were you dating?"

"What?! No!"

"Sorry, just a good assumption."

"Don't patronize me..."

 **XXX**

When they got to the control room, Tex and Simmons were in the control room trying to obtain some information from FILSS's databanks, but they weren't having much luck.

"And these are accurate, all of them?" Tex asked.

"As far as I can tell," FILSS replied.

Just then, Epsilon came into the room, "How's it going in here?"

"Well, I'm helping her access all this data," Simmons replied, "And she's not constantly pounding me in the face, so I would say that's good. Well, it's a start at least."

"Hey come over here," Tex called.

As Epsilon went up to the computer, she pointed at the data on the screen, "Take a look at these. Sheila's giving us a hard time, but we're gettin' through. She only seems to want to listen to you."

"Sheila keeps calling me Director," Epsilon recalled, "Maybe that has something to do with it."

"The Director..." Tex looked it up on the info and shook her head, "Hmm, there's almost no information on him. I asked Sheila but-"

"I am sorry," FILSS cut in, "But access to the Director's personnel file is restricted."

"Yes, Sheila we know," Tex sighed, "You don't have to keep repeating it."

"I am just doing my job," FILSS said, slightly put-off.

Tex looked over to Simmons, "Can't you mute her?"

"Don't even think about it, buster," FILSS warned.

Simmons slowly backed away from the computer, "Uh, I really don't like it when girls pay direct attention to me."

"You are so lame," Rhode said, visor-palming.

"Well, what did you find in the files?" Epsilon asked.

"Not much," Tex admitted. "Standard clerical info, whole bunch of win/loss statistics, psych profiles-"

"Psych profiles?" Epsilon interrupted.

"Yeah," Tex nodded, "They have one on everybody, except the Director and-"

"Let me guess, and you?" Epsilon put in.

"And us," Tex corrected, "No Church either. Everyone else is in there though, full profile."

"Washington used to wet the bed," Simmons snickered before running off, "I'm gonna go tell the other guys."

Rhode snickered at that too.

Epsilon rolled his eyes then looked at the computer, "So, no new info? Wild goose chase again?"

"Maybe, maybe not..." Tex typed on the keyboard and an image appeared on the screen, "Look at this picture; do you have any idea what this is?"

Epsilon took a look. "What is that, ice?"

The picture was almost completely white but he could just see a building in the corner, "Oh yeah, I know that place. That's a, uh secure location like, um, like a safe house. Wait, how do I know that?"

"You know it because it's a Freelancer base," Tex replied, "And it's not far from here."

Epsilon looked confused, "If you already know what it is, why the heck are you asking me?"

"Because I'm not interested in what I know," Tex answered, "I'm interested in what you know."

"What is that, freaking wisdom?" Church snapped, "Listen, next time you wanna ask me a question, just ask it. Don't beat around the bush."

"I couldn't take the risk," Tex explained, "You might have just told me what I wanted to hear. You are completely whipped."

"Told you so!" Tucker called out.

Tex sighed then she stepped out of the room, "I'm gonna go see what weapons they have stored here."

"Okay," Epsilon said, "You need any help?"

"Director?"

"Huh, what?" Epsilon turned and spotted FILSS on the screen.

"Before you leave, would you like to make a journal entry?" FILSS offered, "It had been quite a while since your last update."

Epsilon frowned, "Journal?"

"Yes," FILSS replied. "I know you are busy, but you always ask me to remind you when you are falling behind on documentation. Documentation is an important part of any scientific endeavor."

"Right, um..." Epsilon thought about for a moment, "Hey, why don't you play one of the entries for me?"

"Certainly," FILSS replied.

Then from the speakers, there came a voice with a soft Southern accent, "The Counselor's insistence on referring to Agent Texas as a byproduct continues to frustrate me. We have seen our share of unharvestable fragments. She is certainly not one of them. No indeed, she's something else entirely."

Epsilon listened to the entry with great interest, "Sheila, I want you to transfer all these files to me."

"Understood," FILSS said, "Transferring now..."

Epsilon nodded then turned to leave, "And do me a favor: delete the rest."

"Deleting entries..."

 **XXX**

Rhode followed Church out of the room and found Tex with new armor and weapons.

"What are doing?" Church asked.

"I'm leaving, Church," she replied.

"What?" Rhode gasped, "Where?"

"I can't say," she said, "There are some things I need to look into."

Epsilon's eyes narrowed, "You're going to that frozen base, aren't you?"

"I need to know more about myself, Church," Tex replied grimly, "And I'm not gonna find anything out by sitting around on my butt with all of you."

"Well, let us come with you," Epsilon offered.

"You guys?" Tex cried. "This is a military operation. I need people with military training."

"We have military training," Grif spoke up.

Tex raised an eyebrow. "Um, I need people who understand the military training."

"Wow, look who's getting picky," Grif murmured.

"Yeah, beggars can't be choosers," Tucker agreed.

Tex shook her head, "No offense but you guys just end up slowing me down half the time or... more than half the time."

She looked over at Epsilon, "All the time is more than half the time, right?"

"I guess that means I can go?" Rhode asked.

"Yes," Tex answered.

"You know what, screw it," Grif retorted, turning to leave, "Why are we even arguing about this? We don't wanna go anyway."

"Yeah," Tucker agreed, leading Caboose away as he left, "Good luck on your mission to the empty base guarded by tons of real military dudes who're all looking for you anyway."

"Yeah," Grif yelled over his shoulder, "Hope you find your empty base and your files full of nothing."

Epsilon shook his head and turned to Tex as she put her helmet on, "Well I'm going, and I'm not gonna let you stop me."

"Yeah?" Tex thought for a moment then she nodded, "Okay. I have a feeling I could use you before this is done."

As she, Rhode, and Epsilon made for the exit, Tucker turned round and yelled, "Oh, and when you and Tex get killed again, be sure to let us know. That way we can revive you so that you can run off and get killed... again. Seriously, it never gets old to us."

 **XXX**

 **Tucker's got a point. It doesn't. But he may need to tell that to Season 13... Till next time guys!**


	20. Chapter 19: Standardized Testing

**Chapter 19: Standardized Testing**

After traveling a long distance, Epsilon, Rhode, and Tex finally reached their destination, the complex called Avalanche in the snowy region of Sidewinder. When they reached Avalanche, they spotted three guards standing outside waiting for some action and whining about the cold, but Tex took them out with three shots from her pistol.

"Wow," Rhode breathed, "You took out all those guys at once? Was that really necessary?"

"Eh, they'll live," Tex replied with a shrug.

"No, they won't."

Tex took a moment to note the blood on the guards' heads, "Oh. Yeah, I see your point. Come on, let's get inside."

"Ok." Epsilon glanced at the bodies as he followed, "Man, those guys got jacked up."

Then he looked up and gasped as the vision of Tex entering the Blue Base at Valhalla flashed across his mind.

"What? Wait a minute..." He gasped in realization, "Oh no... Tex, hold on a second!"

Tex stopped at the entrance and turned round, "What's wrong?"

"Um, yeah," Epsilon muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, "Don't know if I mentioned this before, but I've kind of had psychic visions about this place. Yeah, I thought it was Valhalla at first, but I guess it turns out it was here... I probably should have told you this earlier."

Tex frowned at him, "Yes, you should have told me this earlier."

"Well, I'm telling you now. Does that count?"

"Do you think it counts?"

"Nah, probably not," Epsilon admitted.

"You're not psychic, genius. You're just remembering. You've been here before." Tex turned towards the complex and sighed, "We all were."

She led Epsilon into the complex, down some corridors until they reached a huge empty chamber, "This is where they moved Alpha. After a few of us Freelancers went rogue, we compared notes and pieced together what they were doing to him. I convinced them to come back and break him out. The project moved him here to try and protect him, so that they could keep experimenting on him."

"Whoa," Rhode gasped, "You were in charge of the break-in?"

"I couldn't just let them destroy him. He was being tortured, "Tex pointed to a nearby computer screen built into a pillar, "The Director had even started to use some of the other AI against him. Think about that. Turning his own pieces against him? That's sick. Gamma and Omega would fabricate scenarios where he was designed to fail, and they made it seem like his failures were hurting all of the people he cared about. And there was nothing he could do about it. It drove him mad, broke him down even more."

"But you came back," Epsilon breathed, "You saved him."

Tex sighed and bowed her head, "No... I didn't. It was too late. By the time I got to him, he was already long gone. I don't even think he recognized me. I failed... Only in my case, it really was my fault."

 **XXX**

A while later, Tex had left the outpost and was making her way across the snowy fields.

Epsilon and Rhode ran to catch up to her, "Tex, stop! Where are we going?"

Tex stopped walking and turned to face him, "There's only one person left who knows what happened to me; the Director."

The Director?" Epsilon gasped, "Nobody even knows who he is."

"I can think of two people who might know; Wash and the Meta."

"Wash and Meta, are you kidding me?" Rhode stared into her eyes, "Tex, forget all this. What if they don't even know?"

Tex narrowed her eyes, "Then I get to kill Wash and Meta. If I can't find the Director, I'll just dismantle everything he ever built."

Epsilon turned to look back at Avalanche, "Tex, I think the Director built all this for you."

Tex just scoffed, "Even more reason to burn it all to the ground."

"Facing Wash and Meta is suicide, even if we knew where they were. We don't. How the heck are you gonna find them?"

"They'll find us."

"Oh, so what, we just hole up and wait for them to come without ever even knowing when that's gonna be?"

"No," Tex replied, drawing her pistol out, "They'll come now."

"How? Are you just gonna call them on the phone?"

"Something like that..." Then Tex pointed her pistol at Epsilon and fired.

With a cry of pain, Epsilon fell to the ground and clutched his wounded leg, "Tex?"

"What the crap?!" Rhode yelled.

Tex holstered her gun and stepped up to him, "I needed you two to come. Sheila said the recovery beacon wouldn't activate until we left the storage facility."

Epsilon looked up in shock, "What?"

"I didn't ask to be paired with you," she scowled, "I didn't wanna come back. But I'm here now, so I'm gonna put an end to this. And I need your help Rhode. I can't face them alone."

"I _do_ still want revenge on Maine for killing Carolina," Rhode nodded.

Epsilon tried to stand but the pain in his leg was too much, "Tex, I would have helped you."

"You can't even help yourself," Tex retorted, "That's why you made me, Church. You made me to take on all the things you can't handle, just like you always have. Well, guess what? I'm gonna handle it. Wash and Meta will be coming now. I have some things to get ready."

She turned to go, but Epsilon grabbed her arm, "Tex... why are you doing this?"

"Funny you should ask," Tex chuckled, pulling her arm free, "That's exactly what I plan to find out."

 **XXX**

 **Bum bum bum! You know what's happened if you've seen the show! Till next time guys!**


	21. Chapter 20: Rally Cap

**Chapter 20: Rally Cap**

At the Freelancer Offsite Storage Facility, Caboose entered the control room to search for another chair for his fort when he saw FILSS flashing a warning on her screen.

"Alarm, incoming recovery beacon, level Zero!" FILSS announced, "Alarm, incoming recovery beacon, level Zero!"

Caboose looked at the info scrolling onto the screen and gasped in horror, "Oh no!"

 **XXX**

Meanwhile, Washington, Doc and the Meta had acquired a Warthog and tore across the desert, following the coordinates of the recovery beacon. They soon left the desert, drove through a thick forest and finally reached the frozen wastes of Sidewinder.

After a while, Wash spotted a cobalt blue figure lying motionless on the snowy field, "There he is. Something doesn't seem right here. Stop the car."

Doc hit the brakes and stared at him confused, "Stop?"

"I don't like this," Wash muttered, getting out of the jeep, "How did he get hurt? Why isn't anyone else helping him?"

Behind the turret, the Meta growled and pointed at Epsilon. Wash looked round just as Epsilon rolled over and he could just see that the Blue's helmet had been removed and his mouth had been duct-taped shut.

"You're right, this is a trap," He looked up at the mountain nearby, "Those walls there, perfect for a sniper. We walk in to where he's hurt and suddenly we're boxed in, nowhere to go."

Doc glanced around nervously, "You think the Reds are tryin' to ambush us?"

"The Reds?" Wash burst out laughing and even the Meta let out a hissing snicker, "No. This is an actual military tactic. We drilled it all the time in training."

He took a cautious step forward, "No, whoever set this up is a Freelancer. Most likely, Rhode."

"Yeah," Doc muttered, "But if he set this up, wouldn't he know that you guys were Freelancers, and that you would recognize this as soon as you saw it?"

"What?" Wash cried, "No, you're overthinking it. That's just-"

Suddenly there was a loud beeping noise below them and Wash looked down... to see ten landmines lighting up around the jeep in a perfect circle, "Oh, come on."

"Told you so," Doc sighed just before the mines exploded.

 **XXX**

Back at the Facility, Caboose ran into the storage room and rushed over to the 'Red Base' where Tucker was waiting and the Reds were sulking, "Sergeant, Sergeant!"

Sarge looked up from his seat in a parked Warthog, "What do you want, Blue?"

"I need your help!" Caboose cried.

On the crates, Simmons looked down in confusion, "Our help?"

"Yes," Caboose replied, "Church is hurt. They must have gotten to him, Rhode, and Tex."

Tucker gasped in horror but Grif just shrugged his shoulders, "They got Tex? Good, that just means she won't be able to beat the crap out of us anymore."

"No!" Caboose yelled, "We have to rescue them."

"Rescue them, are you nuts?" Grif scoffed, "No one told them to leave. They're on their own."

"But they'll die!" Caboose screamed, "Sergeant, please."

"Uh, hey dude," Grif spoke up, "I don't know if you've picked up on this yet, but if you wanna convince Sarge to do anything, I don't think the best argument is 'the Blues might die if we don't.'"

But Sarge proved him wrong by grabbing his shotgun, jumping out of the jeep and stepping up to the Blues, "Cowboy up, Caboose, I'm comin' with you."

Grif was so shocked that his jaw dropped through his helmet and bounced off his boots, "What?"

"I said I'm helping him," Sarge replied.

"Who, the Blue guy? Why on Earth would you ever help a Blue for no reason?"

Sarge ignored him, "We need weapons. How'd your equipment test go, Simmons?"

"About as well as you would expect," Simmons admitted.

"That's too bad," Sarge sighed.

Grif turned away and folded his arms, "Well, I'm not going, and you can't make me. You quit, remember? I don't take orders from you anymore. And besides, this whole Command structure thing was bullcrap anyway. We all know that now."

Sarge looked up and nodded at him, "I'm not tellin' you ta go. I'm not even askin'."

Grif spun round in shock, "You're not?"

"Nope," Sarge replied, "I'm goin'. That's it. You wanna come, come on. But I don't expect you to. Simmons will probably tell you that statistically, some of us will probably die."

"All of us," Simmons corrected.

"All of us will probably die. But that's not what's important," Sarge looked up at his two privates with a serious face, "Let me ask you two a question: You ever wonder why we're here?"

Grif swapped a puzzled look with Simmons then rubbed his chin in thought, "Um, it does seem to be one of life's greatest mysteries."

"No, I mean you!" Sarge yelled, "What are you doing here? You always act like you wanna quit, but come on, you could've left whenever you wanted. No one would have stopped ya. So why are you here? And you, Simmons."

Simmons looked round in confusion, "Me?"

"You say you wanna be in charge. They would have given you your own squad a dozen times over. You know it, and I know it. But you're still here," Sarge then turned to the Blues, "And you, Tucker. As much as I hate to admit it, you're actually good at being a soldier."

"I am?" Tucker gasped.

"I know you like to make your rude comments and pretend like it doesn't matter. But an entire alien race chose you to be their hero! So why are you here? And Caboose..." Sarge paused for a moment, "Uhhhh, it's good to see you."

"Thanks," Caboose let out a sniff, "I'm really enjoying the speech so far."

Sarge climbed onto the jeep's bonnet so he could address the whole room, "Maybe you're all here because this is the only place you fit in. Maybe you're here because you don't have anywhere else to go. Maybe you're all here because deep down, you want to be here. The reason doesn't matter. What matters is that you're here! For all we know, Tex, Rhode, and Church are dead. That means we're the only ones who know what's happening; the only ones who can prevent them from covering it up."

He narrowed his eyes and his voice became deadly serious, "So the way I figure it, these Freelancer guys wanna use us, take us away from our families and send us all over the dag gum Galaxy just to test if their agents are ready for the big fight? Well, I guess I'm interested in showing 'em exactly what a big fight is all about. Time to clean the slate. So I'm not ordering you to go. I ain't even askin'. You do what you gotta do, Private Grif."

Grif thought it over then bowed his head with a sigh, "I'll go get my car keys."

"Alright then," Sarge jumped off the bonnet, picked up his helmet and slipped it over his crew cut, "Let's move."

"I don't think a jeep will get us there soon enough," Simmons called, "But I think I know what we can use."

He led Sarge, Grif and the Blues out of the storage area and towards a room marked 'Garage'.

Once inside, he stepped aside and waved his hand towards one of the parked vehicles, "This."

Grif stared at it with wide eyes, "Man, who is gonna drive that?"

He then became of everyone staring at him, "Why is everyone looking at me?"

 **XXX**

 **Why else Grif? Also, epic speech by Sarge! Till next time guys!**


	22. Chapter 21: Reunion

**Chapter 21: Reunion**

At Sidewinder, Washington slowly came to and lifted his hands to see them stained with blood. His blood.

Coughing loudly, he glanced around and spotted Doc lying by the jeep, the Meta slowly getting to his feet, and a black figure approaching him, assault rifle in its hands.

"It can't be..." he gasped, "Tex?"

Looking around, he spotted a rifle nearby and dived towards it but Tex ran forward, flipped him onto his back and pointed her gun at his face, "You're supposed to be dead."

"Don't sound so disappointed, you'll make me cry," Tex sneered, "Where's the Director?"

"The Director?" Wash gasped, "How would I know that?"

Tex tut-tutted in disapproval, "Wrong answer."

Her finger squeezed the trigger but then the Meta tackled her and sent her flying off Wash. He then charged forward but Tex caught him in a powerful punch, knocking him to the ground. With a growl of anger, the Meta jumped up and threw powerful jabs at her which she easily blocked. Then she kneed him in the head and kicked him back.

"Rhode!" She yelled, "You were supposed to take care of Meta! ...Rhode?"

She turned and saw Rhode with his head jammed in one of the ice pillars, struggling to get free.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK I WAS TRYING TO DO?!?!?!" He yelled, arms flailing.

Tex sighed then lifted a detonator and set off some explosives by her feet, revealing a powerful chain gun which she grabbed in midair before swinging it towards the Meta and opening fire. With a growl of shock, the Meta ran across the field faster than the bullets before diving behind an icy boulder. She then turned and the bullets ripped through the ice pillar Rhode was in, freeing him. Rhode then grabbed his rifle and began shooting at the Meta.

Behind Tex, Wash felt the healing unit do its magic so he got to his feet and whipped out the capture unit.

At that moment, Tex's gun ran out of ammo and the Meta took this moment to whip out his pistol and return fire. Tex ducked behind an icy stalagmite, smashed through the ice and drew out two sub machine guns which she fired at the Meta. Rhode managed to shoot Maine on the shoulder, but he only growled in annoyance. Wash then ran up to Tex and thrust the unit's spike at her, parrying one of her guns away, but she ducked the blow and knocked it out of his hands.

"NO!!!" Wash dived forward and grabbed the unit just before it fell over the cliff, "Be more careful, this thing can't take any more hits!"

During the battle, Doc ran over to the wounded Epsilon and pulled the tape off his mouth, making the Blue yelp, "Church, are you okay?"

"She freaking shot me!" Epsilon yelled, sitting up carefully, "What is wrong with her?"

"She did?" Doc gasped, "That's what brought us to you!"

"I know! She meant to do that!"

Doc looked over his shoulder, "Well, she's paying for it now."

Epsilon turned round and saw that the Meta had Tex pinned to the ground, trying to wrestle her gun away but she kicked him backwards towards a wall of ice. As Washington rejoined his colleague, Rhode kicked Maine away and Tex jumped to her feet and pulled out another detonator.

"Is that a-" Tex pressed the button and a loud beeping started behind them.

Wash spun round and saw a row of mines built into the wall, "-MOUNTAIN?!"

Just then the mines went off and the wall shattered into huge blocks that went tumbling towards the two ex-Freelancers who set off running. Wash stabbed at Tex again with the unit but she ducked aside and kicked him away. Then the Meta charged forward and grappled with Rhode, but was knocked back by Maine's kick.

Wash tossed the unit towards him, "Meta, take it! Hit her!"

As the blocks crashed around them, the Meta grabbed the unit and swung out at her but she ducked away. Wash then leapt up to do a jump-kick at her head, but Tex dodged it and flung him to the ground. The Meta then kicked her in the chest, right under a huge shard of ice. Quickly she rolled away to avoid getting crushed then the Meta kicked it out at her but she jumped onto it and flipped away.

Wash leapt onto another large icicle and ran along its length, firing at Tex, but Rhode kicked him aside. Tex landed on a block and vaulted over it, followed closely by the Meta. As Tex landed, a boulder landed behind her and she punched out towards the two men. Wash ducked aside and the Meta pushed off it towards Tex. She ran up another piece of ice and intercepted him in midair, grabbing him by the chin and bending him backwards over her shoulders. As she landed, she threw him up and kicked him in the back towards Wash who dived out of the way.

Wash then raised his battle rifle and fired at them, but she and Rhode dived behind an icy boulder where after a moment of delay, she drew out a third detonator and looked at Rhode, who nodded. She sighed and hit the button. At once a line charges went off under the ice twenty feet from them and as the mountain shelf began to crumble, they took off for the safety of the other side but then Wash fired and Tex screamed in pain as the bullet hit her shoulder, landing on the ice sheet.

"Tex!" Rhode yelled, landing to safety and checking on her wound.

Wash suddenly realized that the ground was moving and he looked round to see the shelf cracking and breaking as it fell towards the icy water below, "Oh my God! RUN!"

He and the Meta tore across the shelf towards the ever-growing abyss, leaping over cracks and side-stepping the sliding boulders. As they reached the edge of the shelf, the Meta spotted his brute shot falling over the cliff and leapt straight towards it.

"Meta, wait!" Wash called out.

The Meta snatched his weapon in midair then slammed the blade into the icy sheet before pulling himself up the cliff, "Oh come on!"

Acting quickly, Doc dashed up to the wrecked Warthog, pulled out a tow-hook then ran up to the edge of the cliff, "WASH, here! Take this!"

"Doc?!" Wash gasped, waving his hands above his head, "Throw it, throw it!"

"Here it comes!" Doc tilted his arm back and threw the tow-hook out... and it fell straight down the cliff.

"You've got to be kidding me," Wash groaned in exasperation.

He then took a step back, ran along the shelf and leapt for the tow-cable, grabbing onto the hook and slamming into the cliff face.

He watched as the ice shelf crashed down into the frozen waters below then he hauled himself up the cable to the top of the cliff where Doc pulled him up, "That was the second worst throw, ever, of all time."

"What do you want from me?" Doc muttered, "I ran track at high school."

Meanwhile the Meta ran up to Tex as she struggled to her feet. Maine punched Rhode straight in the visor, cracking it. Rhode stumbled back and the Meta kicked him to the ground. As the Meta swung the blade end of his brute shot at Tex, she parried it with her combat knife then punched him back. As he stumbled back, she dashed forward and slashed across his stomach then stabbed him in his left shoulder.

With a roar of pain, the Meta pointed his brute shot at the ground and then fired, sending them flying and knocking Tex down.

Wash ran up to them as the Meta grabbed the capture unit and hauled Tex to her feet, "Meta, wait! We don't need to hurt her, we only need-"

But the Meta ignored him and stabbed the unit's spike right through her visor. Tex cried out as she felt herself leaving her body and entering the unit before her body fell limp.

"NOOOOOO!" Epsilon screamed.

With a growl of satisfaction, the Meta drew the unit out and flung Tex's body towards the stunned Epsilon, "Stop! Let her outta that thing!"

"We can't, the unit is failing." Wash then turned his attention to the AI, "Epsilon, it's over. You're coming with us."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Epsilon snapped as Doc got him to his feet and Rhode ran over, "We can fight you!"

"We can?" Doc gulped.

"We will!" Epsilon replied.

"I could go another round," Rhode said, cracking his fists.

"Aw, great," Doc sighed.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Wash retorted, "Meta, give me the memory unit."

But the Meta didn't respond, "Meta?"

Wash turned round and saw that the Meta was staring at the unit in his hands. Then he glanced at Wash and lifted the unit to his back.

"Meta, NO! Wait!" Wash cried.

But it was too late. The Meta plugged the unit into his back and then he pressed a button on his left wrist and vanished into thin air.

"Oh come on!" Rhode yelled, "Doc, you have to protect Epsilon!"

"What do I do?" Doc yelped.

"RUN!" Wash screamed.

The Meta charged past him and then opened fire on Epsilon. Doc threw his arm around Epsilon's shoulder and half-led, half-dragged him across the field.

Quickly Wash jumped onto the Meta's back and threw his arms around his neck, "I'll try to hold him!"

But the Meta threw him off next to Rhode and continued to fire. Wash drew out his pistol and fired in retaliation but the Meta fired a shot at him and sent him and Rhode flying. With a hiss of triumph, the Meta stomped towards them.

"So we're partners again?" Rhode asked.

"I guess so," Wash said, then turning to Maine, "I knew you would do this, Meta. I just can't believe..."

His voice trailed off as he looked over the Meta's shoulder

"...can't believe..."

Rhode's eyes widened and he gasped, "I can't believe it!"

The Meta whirled round and saw what Wash and Rhode were staring at. Diving out of the sky, trailing dark smoke was a Pelican-Class drop ship and through the windscreen, he could see five figures in the flight deck, four of whom he recognized as the simulation troops that foiled his plans months before.

Inside the Pelican, Sarge pointed over Grif's shoulder at the snowy plain below, "There they are! Land right next to 'em!"

"Right," Grif muttered nervously, "Land..."

"You do know how to land this vehicle, don't you?"

"Sure. That just means stop flying, right?"

"...Brace for impact!" Sarge yelled.

"Oh crap!" Tucker cried, placing his hands over his visor, "This is gonna suck!"

"I still haven't got my peanuts," Caboose shouted.

At once the Pelican dropped right out of the sky and crashed right into the field, skidding along the ground. Washington jumped out of the way as the ship ran right over the Meta. Epsilon dived behind a nearby tree but Doc ran the other way towards the cliff, stopping on the edge and closing his eyes, bracing for the impact of the million ton ship. But miraculously, the ship stopped just inches from his face.

Doc glanced nervously up to see the Pelican's passengers pressed right up against the glass, all except for Caboose who had remembered to put on his seatbelt, "Wow! That was a close one!"

The Reds and Tucker just groaned as they fell off the glass and crashed to the ground. Doc quickly got out of the way.

Rhode peeked out from behind the tree, "I would say that was the cavalry, but I've never seen a line of horses crash into the battle field from outer space before."

"Agreed," Wash said.

Epsilon glanced round from the other side of the tree, "Hey, is it possible for a memory fragment out of an artificial intelligence program enclosed inside a robotic body to pee its pants? Because I'm pretty sure I just did that."

Wash grimaced and stepped away from the tree, "Come on; let's go see how many of your friends survived that."

"You know, they're not really my friends."

"That's okay," Wash reassured as they ran towards the Pelican, "I'm sure none of them really survived."

Fortunately they had survived and were now staggering out of the Pelican.

Sarge stepped up to the side in anger, "Grif, look what you did to our ship!"

"Ah, forget it, it's a rental," Grif dismissed.

"Good point. Forget it," Sarge kicked the ship and it tumbled over the edge into the waters below.

Epsilon and Rhode then ran up to them and as Wash came up from behind, he recognized the Reds and Caboose and his helmet scanner identified the fifth soldier as Private First Class Lavernius Tucker.

"Has anybody seen Tex?" Epsilon asked urgently.

"I'm sorry, Epsilon," Wash sighed, "The Meta captured her inside of the memory unit."

Epsilon glanced around the field for a moment.

"There she is!" He hobbled up to where the unit was lying on top of a snowdrift, "She's here!"

"Epsilon, there's nothing we can do," Wash insisted, "She's stuck in there."

"So let her out!" Epsilon demanded.

Wash shook his head, "We rigged it so it's one way. We didn't want you to escape again."

"Well, unrig it!"

"I need to get it to a lab, somewhere with tools."

Epsilon glanced over to the Reds, "Simmons?"

"Hey, he's the expert," Simmons said with a shrug, "I don't know what I can do to help."

"And it's in no condition to move," Wash added, "If it locks down before I can open it, she'll be trapped in there."

"We should try something," Rhode declared.

Wash glanced at the unit then sighed and turned to Epsilon, "If I let her out, you have to come with me."

"Yes, fine, just get her out," Epsilon conceded.

Wash nodded then turned to the Blues, "Caboose, Tucker, get in the base and see if you can find some tools."

"Okay," Caboose replied.

"Alright," Tucker agreed, "I'll be right back."

As they set off towards Avalanche, Wash then turned to the Reds, "You three find me anything that has power, anything and everything. We're going to need a lot of power to keep it online."

"On it!" Sarge replied, leading his team after the Blues.

Epsilon meanwhile was still staring at the unit, "I can get her out."

"What?" Rhode gasped, "No!"

"It's my only option," Epsilon said.

He stepped towards the unit but Wash held him back, "I need you, Epsilon. You're my only ticket out of this mess. If you get stuck in there, they'll never believe me. I'm not going back to prison."

"I can do it."

"No, I won't let you."

"You can't stop me," Epsilon yelled, pushing Wash aside, "I have to help her. She's here because of us."

Wash was puzzled, "Because of me?"

"Not you, us," Epsilon corrected, "Me, and Alpha, and the Director."

Rhode stared at him in amazement, "You've started to remember."

Epsilon sighed and nodded, "I found some journals from the Director. She's someone from his life, someone he loved..."

"Allison," Wash said, "Her name was Allison."

"Allison... When they made Alpha, she came back. She was a byproduct of the process."

"She's just a shadow," Wash said.

"Don't call her that!" Epsilon snapped, "She died in her real life, and that's all the Director ever remembered of her. So now, no matter how tough she is, no matter how hard she fights, she's always going to fail, because that's what she's based on. No matter what she's doing, or what she's trying to accomplish, just when her goal is within her reach, it gets yanked away. Every. Single. Time. Can you imagine what that's like?"

Suddenly they heard a growl next to them and looked round in horror.

"I think I'm getting the idea..." Rhode muttered.

Epsilon whirled round to see the unit floating in midair and then the Meta uncloaked in front of it and growled at them, "Uh oh..."

 **XXX**

 **This ain't good... At all. Till next time guys!**


	23. Chapter 22: n plus 1

**Chapter 22: n 1**

At the Avalanche outpost, Caboose and Tucker wandered through the hallways gathering tools while the Reds searched among the crates.

"Simmons, what are we looking for?" Grif asked.

"I don't know, power cells, batteries, anything," Simmons yelled, rummaging through a closet.

"How is a power cell different from a battery?"

"Grif, this is not the time!"

Suddenly there was a loud explosion from outside, followed by some shots.

Sarge looked towards the main entrance, "Hey, did you hear that?"

"Yeah, I did," Simmons replied, drawing out his rocket launcher, "Come on, Grif, let's go!"

"Aren't we supposed to run away from explosions?" Grif yelled, running after his teammates.

 **XXX**

The Reds, Caboose and Tucker raced outside just as Epsilon crashed into the snow in front of them, his body sparking badly, "Ow!"

"What happened?" Sarge cried.

"The Meta... there..." Epsilon pointed out and everyone turned to see Washington and Rhode firing at the Meta next to the wrecked Warthog.

"And I was afraid we wouldn't get to kick a little butt today," Sarge chuckled, taking out his shotgun, "Come on, fellas!"

Tucker switched on his sword then turned to his teammate, "Caboose, stay with Church!"

"Okay," Caboose replied.

"And try not to kill him by accident!"

"Okay!"

The Meta opened fire and Wash dived aside to avoid the hit. The Meta charged towards him, brute shot blade raised but Wash whipped out his knife and parried the blow. He then sliced him in the shoulder but the Meta cloaked himself and ducked aside.

Rhode stopped and glanced around the field then he spotted the snow being shifted in one side. Rhode then grabbed Wash's knife and threw the blade towards the movement. As it hit, the Meta uncloaked with a roar of pain. Wash raised his battle rifle and opened fire, but the Meta shot a rocket out and sent Wash flying back under the Warthog.

The Meta stomped forward fight Rhode, but then a plasma grenade whooshed over his head and he whirled round to see the Reds and Tucker come charging towards him.

"Attack!" Sarge bellowed.

"Get him!" Simmons yelled.

"We're gonna freaking die!" Grif screamed.

The Meta growled in annoyance and ran towards them.

As they charged, the Reds and Tucker took out plasma grenades and threw them out but the Meta pressed a button on his right wrist then slammed his hand into the ground, summoning a huge domed shield around him that blocked the blows. He then leapt out through an opening at the top and fired at Grif and Tucker who quickly rolled out of the way.

Simmons then raised his rocket launcher up and fired at the Meta, "Fire in the hole!"

But the Meta nimbly flipped over the rocket and landed in front of Simmons, slicing his launcher in half with the brute shot blade. Tucker then raised his sword and swung it out but the Meta parried the blow then knocked him aside. Sarge raised his shotgun and fired but the Meta blocked that too.

Then, in a rare act of bravery, Grif pounced onto the Meta's back and grabbed him by the neck, throwing him off-balance, "Whoa! This guy's like a bear!"

The Meta grabbed Grif and threw him off, but as he fell, Grif snatched the brute shot out of his hands, "Yoink!"

Sarge charged forward to tackle him but the Meta punched him to the ground then grabbed him by the leg, swung him round twice and flung him into Grif and Simmons, "Ow!"

Tucker then ran forward and thrust his sword right through the Meta's chest, "Stab!"

As the Meta grappled with Tucker, Rhode ran over to the Warthog where his wounded ex-Freelancer friend lay, "Wash come on, we need help!"

"I can't," Wash groaned. "I'm done..."

"Guys, I can't fight him by myself!" Tucker yelled out.

Wash then grabbed something nearby and held it up to Rhode, "Here... Take this... You know what to do."

Rhode stared at the object for a moment then he nodded, took it from Wash and placed it on his belt.

Still clinging to the sword in the Meta's chest, Tucker threw out a punch but the Meta ducked then knocked Tucker away. As he did, the sword deactivated and fell into the snow.

Then the Meta felt a bullet hit his armor, smashing his visor, and he spun round to see Rhode pointing his sniper rifle at him, "Come at me Maine! Get over here!"

With a growl, the Meta stomped towards Rhode. Rhode stepped closer firing his sniper with each step but the Meta's armor blocked each hit and his visor cracked a bit more.

Grif looked up and stared at the sight, "What's he doing?"

"It looks like he's killing himself," Simmons gasped.

"Oh no!" Sarge exclaimed.

As the Meta drew closer, Rhode fired another round and the top of his visor finally shattered like an egg, the glass falling into the snow. With an angry growl, he pulled off his helmet, revealing his face. He was completely bald with a strange tattoo on the back of his neck, he had an angry grimace on his face and his eyes were cold and lifeless. Rhode fired again, but the Meta ducked the next shot then he knocked the sniper away, grabbed Rhode by the throat, knocked Rhode's helmet off, and began to choke him one-handed.

"Hey Reds!" Rhode gasped, "I need a shotgun! What am I gonna do without a shotgun? Shotgun, dang it!"

"Shotgun?" Grif turned towards the wrecked Warthog then he noticed the long cable snaking along the snow and realization hit, "Come on, Simmons!"

As Rhode felt his life ebbing away, he pulled off the object on his belt and attached it to the Meta's chest plate, "Hey Meta, settle a bet for my red friends, would you?"

He then nodded to his right, "Does that thing kind of look like a big cat to you?"

The Meta looked round and spotted Grif, Sarge, and Simmons pushing the wrecked jeep towards the cliff edge.

"Come on, push Grif!" Sarge grunted.

"I am pushing!" Grif yelled.

Quickly the Meta looked down and realized that Rhode had attached one of the jeep's tow-hooks onto his armor. He noticed Rhode's smirk.

"For Carolina..." He choked out.

Maine tried to grab the hook, but by then it was too late. Simmons, Sarge, and Grif shoved the jeep right over the edge, and just as the cable tightened, Rhode grabbed the capture unit from the Meta's back. As the Meta was thrown off his feet, Rhode fell to the ground and the unit flew up, landing next to Epsilon, Caboose, and Doc.

With a roar of agony, the Meta was dragged along the ground towards the cliff, his arms flailing for something to grab.

As he neared the edge, he caught hold of Grif's leg and dragged him down after him, "Whah!"

"Grif!" Simmons screamed, racing after them.

"Simmons, grab my hand!" Grif yelled, "Help!"

Just as he reached the edge, Simmons dived forward and grabbed Grif's outstretched hand. The sudden stop caused the Meta to lose his grip and he fell with a distraught roar down into the frozen sea and to his death.

"Hold on!" Simmons yelled at Grif, "Don't let go!"

But as Rhode got to his feet, he could see that Grif was starting to slip out of Simmons' grasp, "Uh oh."

Then the inevitable happened.

"Grif!" Simmons screamed as Grif fell.

"SIMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONS!" Grif yelled, disappearing over the edge.

Tucker and Sarge ran up and helped Simmons to his feet.

Simmons stared at the edge in stunned horror, "He's... gone..."

"Yes, Grif is dead," Sarge murmured, "It's a sad day. But he died as he lived, trying to get someone to do his work for him. He will be missed, until we get a replacement, and then forgotten about immediately."

Simmons turned away from the cliff, Freon tears streaking his cyborg face, "I can't believe he's gone..."

Rhode got up and glanced at the edge, "You know, sometimes when somebody falls off a cliff in movies, he's actually just over the edge hanging on a tree branch or something."

"Nope," Sarge sighed, "He's definitely dead."

Simmons looked round in hope, "Maybe we should look, just in case."

"I think looking would get our hopes up," Sarge breathed, leading his teammate away, "And Grif wouldn't like that. Grif would want our expectations to be as low as possible. Let's honor him by not looking. And then have a nice lunch. I'm thinking Monte Cristo sandwich."

"Are you sure? I could just peek right over the edge."

"It sounds like a waste of time."

"It wouldn't even take a second."

"Nope."

"Oh for God's sake, just look over the stupid edge!" Grif's voice rang out, "I can't hold on for much longer!"

At this, Sarge and Simmons ran up to the edge and looked down... to see Grif hanging from his stolen brute shot that he'd stuck right into the ice.

"Grif!" Simmons cried joyfully.

"Dangling on the job again, I see," Sarge scowled, "Dag nabbit, I hate cliffhangers."

"Oh, just pick me up," Grif yelled.

 **XXX**

Meanwhile Epsilon had limped over to the capture unit but Doc was looking very unsure, "Yeah, I don't know. It's in really bad shape, and so are you."

"There's not much time," Epsilon declared, letting off more sparks, "I need you to use it on me."

"Me?" Doc cried, "I can't! I'm a medic! I took an oath!"

"Oh yeah, the first is 'do no harm', right?"

"Well, actually now first is 'lobby against socialist reform.' But second is yeah, that no harm thing."

Epsilon then turned to his friend, "Caboose, here, pick it up."

"I can't, Church," Caboose whispered.

"Yes, you can," Epsilon insisted, "You do this all the time."

Caboose stepped away from the unit, "Yeah, I don't want to."

"Yeah, okay," Epsilon conceded, "Ok, Caboose, I'm sure I can do it on my own."

He then stepped out of his damaged body, letting it slump to the ground.

"But what if you don't come out again?" Caboose cried.

Epsilon placed a reassuring hand onto Caboose, not easy when he's see-through, "Well, you know what Delta always said, right?"

"Memory is the key," Caboose recalled.

"If I don't come back, you're in charge of remembering me, ok?" Epsilon stepped towards the unit then looked back, "Don't let Tucker help; he'll just mess it up. Bye, buddy."

He then knelt down, closed his eyes and placed his hand on the spike sticking out. The unit flashed out so brightly that Doc and Caboose had to cover their eyes and when the light faded, Epsilon was gone.

Just then Sarge came running up, Simmons and Rhode just behind him, "What's going on here?"

"Church went in," Caboose replied, pointing at the humming flashing unit, "He's going to find her."

"That unit looks bad," Simmons knelt down and picked it up carefully, "Let me see what I can do to stabilize it."

"Doc, go check on Wash," Rhode ordered, "I don't know if he's gonna make it."

As Doc ran up to the wounded Freelancer, Simmons suddenly let out a gasp, "Oh no!"

"What?" Caboose cried, "What?"

"It's only going to be open for a few more seconds," Simmons replied, "After that, he'll be trapped."

"Come on, Church," Caboose yelled, "You can do it. Can you hear me? Run towards my voice!"

But the humming started to fade and the light dimmed.

"It's shutting down!" Simmons cried, "I can't stop it!"

"Church, are you there?" Caboose screamed.

But then the humming stopped and the light shut down.

Simmons bowed his head sadly and sighed, "Caboose... I'm sorry..."

Caboose fell to his knees in shock, "Church?"

Tucker and Grif ran up at this point, questioning looks on their faces. But when they saw Caboose burst into tears, they knew immediately and they, Sarge, Rhode, and Simmons bowed their heads in commiseration...

 **XXX**

 **Five hours later**

The members of the UNSC Investigation Division scoured the field and the nearby base for all sorts of clues as to what had happened. They had heard news from the Oversight Sub-committee Chairman that something was going on at Sidewinder. When they arrived, they found two factions of simulation troopers; one Red and one Blue.

So while the others gathered Tex's body and the remains of the battle, the leader of the group interrogated the two teams, "And where the heck did the Pelican in the water come from?"

"Hmm, I don't know," Tucker lied, "I guess the Meta must have hijacked it and crashed it here. That makes sense, right?"

"Man, the Chairman is going to be mad," the leader sighed, "The budget only allows for one crashed Pelican per mission... All right, well I guess you guys check out. You can head back to your training bases now."

"We just call them bases," Sarge corrected.

"Hmph, I bet," the leader snorted.

"Hey, we solved your problem," Grif pointed out, "Not bad for 'Trainees.'"

"I gotta hand it to you," the leader admitted, "Killing one of these agents would be tough, but three, even with one helping you? And this guy..."

He turned to look at a grey-and-yellow armored body lying motionless in the snow, "The Chairman will not be happy he's dead. I think he wanted to debrief him personally. Oh well."

"Yeah," Tucker sighed.

"Yeah, that's too bad," Caboose agreed.

"It is," Rhode said.

"Well, be sure to let him know we're sorry," a cobalt-blue armored Spartan added.

"Whatever," the leader muttered, "You're free to go. If we need you, we know where to find you." Then he went off to join his team.

The Reds and Blues watched him go then the cobalt Spartan reached up and pulled the blue duct tape off his shoulders - revealing yellow shoulder pads, "Why are you guys helping me?"

"You helped us, Wash," Caboose replied as he, Tucker and Grif tossed away the three spray-paint cans they'd hidden behind their backs, "It only makes sense."

"Yeah, plus we need to even the teams," Rhode added, "And I couldn't put up with Caboose constantly asking 'can we keep him? Can we keep him?'"

Washington smiled as he took off the tape on his helmet, exposing its yellow stripe, "For whatever it's worth... Thanks."

With that, the Blues set off across the snowy field.

Grif watched them leave then turned to his leader, "Well, looks like Blue Team has a new recruit, Sarge."

"He doesn't look so tough to me," Simmons muttered.

"Maybe this one can shoot," Sarge agreed, "Come on, fellas. Let's go home."

"Uh, the jeep's busted, Sarge," Grif pointed out, "Are we walking?"

"That depends..." Sarge looked over to where a Hornet-Class airship was landing, "You fellas gotten over your fear of flying yet?"

Simmons saw what he meant and nodded, "Yes Sir."

As the soldiers left to join his team, the Reds immediately jumped aboard and Grif leapt into the driver's seat and took off, "Yoink!"

"Hey!" the pilot yelled, running after them, "You can't take that! That's UNSC property! Get back here! Hey come on, I'll lose my job!"

Simmons glanced out the window nervously, "I hope this doesn't go on our permanent record!"

Meanwhile the leader made his way over to where a soldier was kneeling by a greenish unit.

"Hey, chief, what do you want me to do with this thing?" he called out, "I can't get anything out of it; it's dead as a doornail."

"I don't care," the leader dismissed, "Toss it in evidence. It's all a bunch of junk now, anyway."

The soldier nodded and placed the unit into a nearby crate then he turned his attention on a purple medic who was asking for a lift back to Command.

But inside the unit, Epsilon was still searching for Tex.

I'd like to say that I found her right away, that I just walked into the Epsilon unit and there she was, waiting for me. As you can probably guess, it didn't happen that way, but I know she's in here somewhere, and I'll find her. We always seem to find each other, for better or for worse.

As he searched, he could see memories drifting past him, memories of the Reds and Blues, memories of Washington, memories of Rhode, memories of the other AIs and very faint memories of the Director. As he looked at them, he stopped as an idea came to his mind.

I don't know why the Director did what he did. I don't know if he was trying to revive a memory from his past, or if he was trying to get it out of his head. But I figured out something that the Director didn't. It took Alpha, Delta and all the rest to help me piece it together for me, but what I've learned, is that a great love is a lot like a good memory. When it's there and you know it's there, but it's just outta your reach, it can be all you think about. You can focus on it and try to force it, but the more you do, the more you seem to push it away. But if you're patient, and you hold still, then maybe... just maybe, it'll come to you.

He then closed his eyes and focused his attention on one of the memories.

I just need to make sure I'm somewhere she can find me...

After a while, he opened his eyes... and found himself standing outside a base in the middle of a small box canyon. He looked round for a while and then it came back to him: he was standing outside the Blue Base in the canyon known as Blood Gulch.

I think this place is a little different than it was before. See, out there, everything is based on the Alpha, but in here, I guess I'm the Alpha. And maybe this time through, things'll be a little different for me as well. I guess I'll find out.

"Hey Church!"

Epsilon whirled round to see his teammates running out of the Base towards the cliffs.

"Church, come on," Tucker called out, "I think the Reds just got a new vehicle! Let's go check it out!"

"They only got a jeep!" Caboose agreed, following his teammate, "We got a tank! That's way better!"

With a smile, Epsilon - 'No, I'm Church now,' he decided to himself - set off after his team, "Ok, I'll be right there!"

And I mean, come on, if you have to live the rest of your life in a memory... You might as well make it a good one.

 **XXX**

 **And that's a way to end a season! Now to work on the Season 9-10 book! Till next time guys!**


End file.
